FINDING HAWK
by Tatooine92
Summary: Revan's daughter embarks on a journey of selfdiscovery upon learning of her mother's past. KotOR AU. Hawk and all characters not depicted in either game belong to me, Tatooine92.
1. Good Night Sweetheart

_Author's Note: Here is a KotOR AU fic I wrote in early to mid-2007, and it's been in the editing room for the longest time, which is why it's taken so long to get here. Now, for my disclaimer._

**_Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. **_Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._

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**Chapter One - Good Night, Sweetheart**

"_She's so tiny," Revan Onasi whispered from where she lay on the bunk, gazing up at her husband as he cradled their newborn daughter. "I didn't think anyone could be so small . . ."_

_Carth nodded slowly as he gently rocked the sleeping baby in his arms. He stared long and hard at the child's serene expression, barely noticing when Revan drifted off to sleep in an attempt to soothe her aching body. He reached up and wiped droplets of sweat from his forehead, brushing his two stubborn bangs from his eye. He sighed heavily as he took a seat upon the floor, still holding the baby. He said nothing as he cradled the tiny creature against his chest, though he wondered to himself how in the Force he was going to be able to care for this new, helpless person. She had been born almost a month premature, and she was so small that his golden wedding band could have easily fit around her wrist. The birth had been difficult for both Revan and the baby, and it had taken place in one of the least suitable places in the entirety of the universe: the crew quarters of the _Ebon Hawk_. One minute, Revan had been napping in there peacefully, and the next, she had been screaming for help as her labor pains began. Carth closed his eyes and sighed again before gazing at his newborn daughter. She was so small yet so beautiful to him even though he had no idea whatsoever of how to bring up a little girl. He'd had plenty of experience rearing sons, however; two years previously, Revan had given birth to their son, Devin, and long before he'd even met Revan, he'd had Dustil. But now . . . Now everything was topsy-turvy. He was clueless to the finer points of caring for daughters, and he knew it. That fact frustrated him, but he decided from that moment on that he would try. He would give his precious little girl his all._

"If I could make it up to Fleet Admiral, then I can raise a daughter," _he thought._

_But even as he mentally formed the words, he realized that he wasn't too sure of this or himself. A lump formed in his throat as he tenderly rocked his daughter, softly humming a gentle lullaby as he echoed Revan's words._

"_She's so tiny . . ."_

·

Carth shook his head quickly, snapping himself out of his trance. He realized that he was standing in his daughter's pitch-black bedroom, quietly watching her sleep. He felt his stomach twist into a knot as he found himself staring at her. No longer was she a tiny, helpless baby; she was nearly fifteen years old now, and she was beginning to look more like her mother with each passing day. He unconsciously sighed quite heavily, and he had no sooner done that than his little girl stirred in her bed. She rolled over, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and looking up into the familiarity of her father's face.

"Dad," she said with a tired half-moan, "you're doing it again."

"Sorry, Hawk." Carth's cheeks flushed, and he looked away for a moment. "I guess I was just thinking about—"

"I know, I know," Hawk sighed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "You were thinking about the day I was born, and how small I was, and how scared you were, and blah, blah, blah. Not to mention you were _staring_ at me while I was _trying_ to sleep."

Carth forced a small smile, taking a seat on the edge of her bed and reaching over to grab her hand in the darkness. When he found it, he squeezed it gently, thinking to himself how small and slender Hawk's cool hand was in his. In a way, it still felt as though she was that tiny baby he'd helped deliver nearly fifteen years before.

"That's just my way of telling you I love you," he said softly, leaning over and giving her a light kiss on her forehead.

Hawk grinned in the coal-blackness of her room as she wrapped her arms around her father's neck and hugged him. She breathed deeply of the lingering scent of the cologne he had put on the previous day.

"I love you, too, Daddy," she whispered.

She clung to him for a couple of minutes before he pulled back and motioned to the bright red digital display on the chrono across the room.

"It's ten 'til six," he said. "If you make it quick, I'll keep your mom off your back and let you sleep another hour."

Hawk smiled gratefully.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, rolling over and pulling the blanket up under her chin.

"Any time," Carth answered, tucking the blanket in around her before turning and leaving the room.

"_I am one lucky son of a gun,"_ he smiled to himself.


	2. Morning

**Chapter Two - Morning**

The next morning, Revan, who was the early riser to beat all early risers since the dawn of time, stood at the base of the stairs, impatiently tapping her foot. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she stood staring up at Hawk's closed door with her eyebrows furrowed. It was obvious that she was amazed that a girl could sleep as long as Hawk was.

"Hawk?" she called. No reply. "Sweetie, you up?"

"Aww, let her sleep, Rev," Carth sighed, shuffling out of the kitchen with his morning mug of caffa clutched tightly in his hands. One might say he was addicted to the stuff, for he claimed an inability to function properly without it. "She's growing. She needs the rest."

Revan reached over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he walked past her to claim a seat at the dining room table. She quickly turned back and continued to stare at the aforementioned closed bedroom door. She placed her hands on her hips and huffed, muttering something that sounded like "No daughter of _mine_ is going to be bone-idle."

"She doesn't need the rest when Devin's coming over bright and early to spar with her. We didn't give him to the Jedi for nothing, you know," she answered before taking a deep breath and yelling at the top of her lungs. "HAWK ANDROMEDA ONASI, GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF BED AND HAUL YOURSELF DOWNSTAIRS RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY!"

A sudden thunderous noise echoed from Hawk's room, and it sounded as though Hawk had tumbled out of bed after being frightened by her mother's unexpected shout. Several more crashes and bangs followed in the next few moments as Hawk made mad lunges to the various parts of her bedroom to get dressed as quickly as she possibly could. From where Carth sat, it sounded as though she was riding a bantha around the room, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm comin', Mom! Sheesh!" she yelled back, her voice muffled by the bedroom door. There was another loud crash. "Oh, h_aar'chak_, where did that _di'kutla_ jacket go?!"

A few minutes later, Hawk stumbled down the staircase, clad in a pair of old trousers she had pulled from some Republic surplus Carth had brought home and a pale brown tee shirt that was her evident favorite. She'd worn it almost nonstop since her thirteenth birthday, actually. As she rushed down the stairs, she struggled to tug on a faded blue jacket with partially torn sleeves, but her hand occasionally slipped one of through the jagged tears. By the time she reached the bottom stair, she had successfully gotten her jacket on and zipped up. As she rounded the corner and headed into the dining room where her parents were, she reached up and unclipped a tiny barrette at her forehead. Two little bangs flopped forward over her right eye, and she tossed her head to get them out of the way for a while. As she entered the dining room, pulling her hair back into a halfway decent low ponytail, Revan approached her and gave her a huge hug.

"Good morning, Hawk!" she said cheerily, not realizing that her daughter was struggling to breathe in her warm, yet incredibly tight, embrace. "How are you this morning?"

"Suffocating," Hawk gasped, and Carth snickered as he slowly sipped his caffa. "Can you"—and here she coughed—"let go of my neck?"

Revan released her daughter and planted a gentle kiss on Hawk's cheek before tenderly smoothing the girl's jet-black hair. She smiled, gazing into Hawk's bright blue eyes which were so much like her own. She watched her for a minute, beaming proudly.

"I can't believe our baby's going to be fifteen, Carth," she said with a sigh. "It seems like only yesterday she was this tiny premature . . . thing . . . whose head was so small it could fit into the palm of my hand."

Tears began to glisten in Revan's gentle eyes, and Hawk reached up and grabbed her mother's shoulder. She squeezed somewhat tightly, her eyes searching Revan's.

"Mom, _please_ don't cry," she begged. "I hate it when you do. Look at the bright side: I'm not gonna be fifteen for another whole week!"

"And _that_ is precisely what we wanted to talk to you about. Sit down, Hawk."

Hawk rolled her eyes slightly as she took a seat at the table, asking herself why she had to mention her approaching birthday. She knew what was coming next. It was going to be the whole "Ten Reasons Why You Should Join the Jedi" lecture. Every week it was the same ordeal: "Hawk, we feel it's time for you to start thinking about your future. We've known for a long time that you have Force sensitivity, and we think you should consider Jedi training . . ." and on and on and _on_. Hawk sighed, fiddling with her bangs as she stared at her feet, waiting for the speech to start. A moment passed, and she glanced up in time to notice that Carth twirling his own bangs around his finger. She couldn't help but smile. When it came to bangs, prowess with blasters, and unique piloting skills, she was the spitting image of her father, and she was quite proud of that fact. She squared her shoulders, revealing something else she had inherited from him: pride.

Another moment passed in complete silence before Revan cleared her throat. She tapped her index fingers together, something that Hawk had noticed her mother did every time she was about to give this speech. Hawk gave her eyes another subtle roll.

"_Oh, boy, here it comes,"_ she thought with a heavy exhale that blew her bangs straight up into the air before they flopped back against her forehead.

"Hawk," Revan said, "with your fifteenth birthday coming up, we feel it's time for you to start thinking about your future."

"_Yes_, Mom."

"Now, sweetheart, we've known for a long time—since your birth, even—that you have Force sensitivity, and we think you should consider—"

"Mom," Hawk interrupted. "I really don't want to."

Everything suddenly went silent. Revan appeared startled by her daughter's sudden words, and she seemed almost taken aback. Carth leaned slightly forward in his seat. This Saturday morning routine had never taken this twist before. Things were about to get quite interesting.

"What?" Revan questioned with a barely audible gasp of shock.

"I don't want the Jedi training," Hawk answered. "That's not what I want to do. I don't want to be stuck in that stuffy Temple all day long listening to fifteen thousand dos and don'ts from a bunch of stuffy ol' Masters. I'm just not cut out for the Jedi."

"But Hawk," Revan replied, still trying to stifle her surprise, "what about your talent? What about your ability to telepathically control the _Ebon Hawk_?"

Hawk took a deep breath, trying to act like an adult and not a spoiled brat. She was at that age where she didn't want her parents to think of her as a child. She wanted them to treat her like a mature human being.

"I know I can do that, Mom," she answered, "but I don't think I'd be a very good Jedi. You've said yourself I've got a lot of maturing to do and that I need to work on my attitude. You've said that sometimes I'm too impulsive, and I know for a fact that the Jedi don't like impulsive people. No, Mom, I think you just ought to leave the Jedi-ness to Devin. He's better suited for that."

"Hawk," Carth began slowly, looking his daughter in the eye and reaching across for her hand. "You know your mother and I want what's best for you. We just think that this might be the way to go."

"It's not, Dad! I _know_ it's not."

"I don't think you've thought about this fully. Promise me you'll think it over some more before making your final decision."

Hawk opened her mouth to say something more when a somewhat quiet knock came at the front door of the Onasi apartment. Springing to her feet with the joyful realization of being saved by the bell, so to speak, she raced to the door and threw it open. She squealed with delight when she found her brother, seventeen-year-old Devin, standing there with a grin on his face. His smile was very similar to Carth's, as was his brown hair and eyes, but his six-foot-tall frame was a mere inch taller than his father's. He opened his arms to Hawk, eyes sparkling.

"Devin!" Hawk cried, throwing herself at him.

"Easy, sis," Devin chuckled, staggering under the sudden weight of his younger sibling. "I don't need to break my back, thanks."

Hawk released him, grinning at him with gratitude, for his arrival had saved her from a quite unpleasant conversation. Her only wish was to be out of dangerous waters.

"Ready to spar?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Only if you're ready to lose," Devin snickered.

"Oh, you think I haven't improved much, eh?" Hawk smirked. Although these weekly sparring matches were their mother's attempt to give Hawk a head start on that Jedi training, the brother and sister saw them merely as an opportunity to get together and spend while in friendly sibling rivalry. "I'll show you, Mister Hotshot Jedi. I've been _practicing_."

"Yeah?" Devin retorted, his hands resting playfully on his hips. "With whom, T3?"

"Not in the least!" Hawk laughed, heading toward the basement. "C'mon, I'll show you what I've learned, and you can guess who taught it to me."

"Be careful!" Revan called as the children disappeared into the basement.

"Go easy on her, Dev," Carth added.

"Tell _her_ to go easy on _me_!" Devin called back jokingly, grunting as Hawk elbowed him in the stomach.


	3. Sparring

**Chapter Three - Sparring**

Hawk stepped into the basement with Devin at her heel. She ran her hand along the inside of the wall, her fingers searching for a light switch. After a moment, she found it and flipped it on. A lone fixture flickered on, just barely lighting the room. Though the light was dim, the basement was large enough to practice in. Hawk strode to a nearby trunk and lifted out a pair of vibroblades. The faint light in the basement glinted off their polished steel blades as she tossed one to Devin, who caught it deftly. Devin brandished the weapon, holding the shining blade before his face and nodding toward his sister. Hawk replied with the same motion, following it with a sly grin that partially unveiled her inner scoundrel.

"_En garde_," she said, stepping out toward the center of the room.

Devin advanced slowly, his blade flicking outward. It met Hawk's with a faint clash, and he pulled back. Despite having sparred with her for weeks now, he always felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when it came to fighting his own sister. It was as though he was terrified of the possibility that he might wound her, and Hawk knew it. She knew it was close to impossible for him to injure her as long as he was afraid to spar with his full skill, so she used his fear to her advantage. She lunged forward, her wrist turning slightly to drive her blade toward him at a fifteen-degree angle. He just barely blocked her attack, but he somehow managed to, and he spun quickly to dodge her. He straightened his posture, staring at his sister with shock. She had dropped into a subtly threatening stance, with her knees bent slightly, one foot in front of the other in a sturdy base, and her torso leaned forward. She gripped the hilt of her vibroblade with both hands, fingers flexing. A small smirk found its way onto her face as she stood there, reveling in Devin's expression of sheer surprise.

"Where did you learn that?!" he asked quickly, motioning to her. "That's definitely a Mandalorian stance!"

"No kidding," Hawk replied with a quick roll of her eyes.

"Have you been practicing with Canderous again?"

Hawk gave an exasperated sigh.

"Of course I have."

"You know Dad wouldn't like that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well?"

"Well, _what_?"

"How do you plan to cover up Mandalorian battle stances?"

Hawk grinned, smugly giving her vibroblade a quick flourish.

"Simple. I won't use them in front of Dad."

Devin shook his head with slight disapproval.

"You _know_ Dad doesn't like that you hang around with Canderous all the time."

"Yeah," Hawk sighed, "but he and Mom want me to do the whole Jedi training thing, so don't you think he'd want me to know every possible battle stance?"

"Maybe," Devin conceded. "If that's the case, then you're missing quite a few. You should try learning a few more of the Jedi forms, and perhaps you could find someone to teach you a few Echani stances."

"Echani?" Hawk laughed. "You're kidding, right? They fight with only fist and foot, and I hear they do it in their . . ." Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. ". . . in their underwear."

Devin shook his head again, this time chuckling at the expression on his sister's face when she thought about Echani fighting styles.

"You've _definitely_ been hanging out with Canderous too much," he smiled. "Oh, well. You caught me off guard that time, sis, but it won't happen again."

"Oh yeah?" Hawk leered. "Try me, Hotshot Jedi."

Devin dropped into a low, unassuming stance of readiness as Hawk came at him, her vibroblade gleaming in the dimness of the basement. He parried her attack easily, gently pushing her back. She tossed her head, flipping her bangs out of her eyes as she slid effortlessly into a Jedi stance she had picked up from watching him practice. Had her fingers been wrapped around a lightsaber's silvery hilt instead of a vibroblade's, she would have passed as the perfect imitation of a Jedi Knight. Devin could not help but study her posture and how easily she adapted to a position used almost exclusively by the Jedi. He was aware of her Force sensitivity and of how badly the Jedi wanted to add her to their ranks, but every time he sparred with her, he was amazed by how quickly she picked up new combat forms. Once more, he advanced slowly, careful not to injure his sister, and Hawk again took that to her advantage. She propelled herself into the air and turned a midair somersault, bringing her blade crashing down upon the hilt of Devin's vibroblade. She knocked the weapon from her brother's hand and deftly pushed him to the floor.

"_Touché_," she smirked.

"Well done, Hawk," said a gruff voice from the doorway. "I guess you learned what I taught you after all."

Hawk wheeled around, her eyes sparkling as she recognized the person standing in the doorway.

"Candy!" she squealed, racing over and nearly tackling her visitor.

Canderous Ordo staggered backwards, trying to push the teenaged girl away. His face flushed into a dark crimson, and his discomfort with public displays of affection was quite evident. Eventually, he managed to peel Hawk off himself, and he turned to stare at Devin with an air of combined amusement and criticism.

"And you call yourself a Jedi," he chuckled, sounding as though the fact that a non-Jedi had taken down an actual Jedi was quite humorous. "Maybe your Master needs to step up your training, hmm?"

Devin scrambled to his feet, his cheeks reddening. He scooped up his fallen vibroblade and ran his hand across its hilt before returning it to its velvet-lined case.

"Master Mical says I'm doing better than I've ever done," he retorted, trying to hide his embarrassment at being beaten by his kid sister and getting caught. He failed.

"Oh-h?" Canderous smirked. "I don't think you could hold up to a Mandalorian."

"Enough, _ba'vodu_," Hawk sighed, exasperated. "I've seen him practice against other Jedi. He's better than I could ever be. It's just that whenever he spars with me, he gets nervous."

Canderous looked down at Hawk and dropped his voice to a whisper.

"I see. _Chaabla_, hmm? Thinks you might be _burk'yc_?"

"_Ba'vodu_!" Hawk gasped, somewhat angrily. "Don't say that!"

"_N'eparavu takisit_," the aging warrior muttered.

Devin wandered over to the pair, dusting himself off. He smiled at Hawk, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's been fun, sis," he said, "as usual, even if you _did_ beat me."

Hawk giggled.

"I'll _try_ to go easier on you next time."

Devin laughed as he headed out of the basement, leaving Hawk and Canderous alone. He stopped just before he stepped out the door and turned back to Hawk.

"Don't forget that Aunt Bastila's coming by later," he said.

Hawk waved him off, nodding as she walked to the trunk and lifted out his vibroblade.

"I won't."

Satisfied, Devin bid his sister farewell and left Hawk and Canderous to their sparring as he headed back to the Jedi Temple. Hawk tossed the vibroblade to the Mandalorian, who caught it easily, and he ran his hand along the flat of the blade.

"This one's really lightweight," he said. "Back in _my_ day, we had vibroblades that could _really_ give a lightsaber a run for its money. This one would break in a minute if you tried to use it in combat against a Jedi, even with its cortosis weave."

"Seriously?" Hawk questioned, giving her own blade a hesitant glance. "You know, we don't _have_ to spar if you don't want to . . ."

"Don't try that one on me, _cyar'ika_. I'm not about to step away from a good spar. I never have, and I never will. Now come on."

Hawk shrugged slightly and stepped into the middle of the room, making a slow advance toward Canderous. She noticed that his eyes were locked onto her hands and feet, and she knew he was ardently studying her every move. He watched her with a critical eye, analyzing her every movement.

"Your stance is off," he announced presently. "Bend your knees just a little more, and straighten your back."

Hawk did as she was told, and Canderous nodded with subtle approval. The next moment, both of them lunged at the other, the sparring match becoming instantly heated. Hawk knew right off that Canderous was putting her through her paces. She could tell this from the way he switched stances and battle styles and from the way he forced her to do the same. They alternated stances so frequently that Hawk found that she was quickly tiring, and she found it strange that she was wearing out before an aging, battle-scarred warrior who was many, many years older than she. While she was pondering this strange truth, she misjudged one of Canderous' attacks, and she found herself sprawling out onto her back. She lay there on the floor for a moment, stunned, before she realized she had crashed into and broken open an old footlocker. She hastily ran through a mental checklist, making sure she was all right and unharmed. Canderous stooped to help her to her feet, and she gratefully accepted his aid.

"You weren't paying attention again, Hawk," he chided.

"Sorry," Hawk mumbled, embarrassed by her fall, before turning and shooting him a sideways glance. Her lips curved into a taunting smile. "Does my mother approve of your beating up on little children?"

"She doesn't have to know," Canderous answered, a sly grin sneaking its way across his face, "because neither you nor I will tell her."

"You sly dog, you!" Hawk gasped, shaking her head and laughing.

"That's why I'm Mandalorian, _cyar'ika_."

He swaggered out of the basement, laughing to himself, and left Hawk behind. She grinned again, chuckling inwardly, as she knelt to clean up the contents of the old footlocker. As she set about picking up the mess, something caught her eye . . .


	4. Revelation

**Chapter Four - Revelation**

Whatever it was, it was gleaming faintly in the dim light of the basement. Hawk's hands strayed for the strange object, and she slowly lifted it out from beneath a pile of yellowed papers and antique books. It was a mask. It was broken nearly in two and covered with a layer of dust over a thin film of grime. Hawk brushed the dirt away and stared down at the mask as she held it gingerly in her hands. It was black and tinted with red down the front. It gave Hawk a strange feeling in her stomach as she studied its triangular shape. Something certainly wasn't right about it; even she knew that.

"What is this thing?" she whispered aloud, turning the cracked mask over in her hands.

The inside of the mask seemed just like the front, except that Hawk noticed dried blood smeared on it. She shuddered, quickly setting it aside to ease the sudden feeling of nausea that holding the thing had brought on. It was then that her eyes fell on a tiny, leather-bound book lying nearby. Gold letters spelled out the word "diary" across the front, and as Hawk picked it up, she noticed that the lock had long since rusted away. She carefully opened the diary, cautious not to tear any of the fragile, brown pages. Her heart raced when she recognized the gently curving handwriting inside.

"_Hey, this is Mom's diary!"_ she thought to herself with a gasp of delight.

She flipped to a page near the middle of the book and quickly glanced around to be sure that no one was sneaking into the basement. Her eyes hurriedly scanned the words that had been hastily scrawled out across the pages, and she began to read . . .

"_November 17 — I can't believe this is happening. Malak told me a terrible truth and I just can't find it within myself to believe it. Carth's had no trouble believing it, though; this morning he told me that he hates me. As soon as he said it, all this hurt more badly than it ever had before. I never thought I'd hear him tell me that he never wants to even look at me again. After all we've been through and all the time I've spent with him . . . I thought there was something there. I suppose there wasn't._

"_I just can't believe that I could ever possibly be_ her_, but I know it really is true. I want to be Lire Dakaar again so badly, but I cannot. Every memory that bubbles up to the surface of my mind tells me this quite loudly. Every time I look around at the turmoil the galaxy is in, I can't help but realize that it's _my_ fault. Had I never joined the Mandalorian Wars, I never would have gone into the Unknown Regions, and I never would have fallen to the Dark Side. I never would have come back and wreaked havoc on everyone and everything. Telos never would have been destroyed, Malak never would have betrayed me, the galaxy never would have been thrust into darkness and pain . . . and I never would have fallen in love with a handsome pilot in an orange jacket. Why did I ever have to be _her_ in the first place? If this was meant to be funny, it isn't._

"_It hurts._

"I_ hurt._

"_I hurt because my friends hurt, and they hurt because I am _Revan_."_

Hawk slowly closed the diary, and her mouth dropped open. She found herself unable to breathe. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she stared down at the book that rested in her trembling hands.

"No . . ." she whispered in disbelief.

She knew the name of Revan. Everyone in the galaxy did. Everyone knew the tales of the brave Jedi hero who had led the Republic to victory over the Mandalorians, and everyone knew the story of the Sith Lord upon whose shoulders blame for the Jedi Civil War had fallen. But now there was this sudden revelation that those two people were the same, and that one person was the same as yet another. While reading the diary, Hawk had recognized the name "Lire Dakaar." She'd seen it written on the identification tag of an old knapsack in the depths of her mother's closet. Realization now stabbed mercilessly at her like several thousand daggers thrust into her stomach.

Lire Dakaar was fictitious. She was nothing more than a name now; nothing more than a lie. She _was_ a lie.

_**Revan**_ was her mother.

Hawk closed her eyes, gasping for breath as she grappled with this horrible news. When she finally opened her eyes again, she caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby, partially broken mirror. Her hand slowly reached up as she hesitantly touched her black hair. All her life, she'd known that she resembled her mother quite closely, and she had always been incredibly proud of that fact. But now, she felt sick when she realized that her face was nearly the same as that of a Sith Lord's. Her hand brushed against the half-broken mask that still lay on the floor, and Hawk shuddered as she picked it up. Still gazing at herself in the mirror, she took a deep breath and lifted it to her face. It fit perfectly. She was her mother's image. With a gasp of horror, Hawk hurled the mask across the room as she broke down into sobs, and as she wept, she found herself experiencing the sudden seething sensation of anger.

She was not angry with her mother for falling to the Dark Side all those years prior. She was not angry with Revan for anything of that sort. Instead, she felt a powerful surge of rage over the fact that her parents had lied to her all her life. They had not out-and-out lied and given her false information about her mother, but they had never even told her _anything_, and _that_ was synonymous with lying.

Hawk leaped to her feet, her slender body still trembling. She strode across the basement and lifted the mask from the corner into which she had thrown it before turning on heel and stomping upstairs. She stormed past the staircase and into the dining room, where she found her mother sitting at the table and conversing with Bastila Shan. The Jedi had only recently arrived, and though Hawk was glad to see her, the burning pain of her discovery overrode those feelings. But there was no doubt that the two were discussing her future, and she found herself angered yet again. She sidled up alongside the duo, tastefully concealing the mask behind herself as she flashed Bastila a strained grin of greeting. She nodded an acknowledgment as Hawk turned to her mother.

"Mom, I need to talk to you," she said, her voice shaking, but only just barely.

"In a minute, sweetie."

"Mom, it's important!" Hawk persisted with a sigh of exasperation.

"Hawk," came the firm reply, "in a minute."

Hawk closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she clenched and unclenched one fist at her side. She couldn't stand the horrible suspense any longer.

"Revan, I need to speak to you _now_!"

Silence fell over the room as two pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.

"_What?_" her mother questioned, not quite believing what she'd just heard.

"What's the matter, Mom?" Hawk asked, trying to force a laugh but failing. Instead, her voice began to tremble, and her eyes began to fill with tears. "Don't you recognize _your own name_?"

Revan and Bastila exchanged a brief, worried glance, and the delicate black brows above Revan's eyes arched with question as she looked at her daughter, who stood there shaking with horror and betrayal.

"How does she know?" Bastila asked in a hushed voice. "Did you tell her?"

"No, of course not!" Revan answered with surprise. "Carth and I never—"

"Exactly!" Hawk cried suddenly. "You never told me! Do you want to know how I found out, Aunt Bassie? Here!"

She thrust the mask into Bastila's lap before crumpling to her knees on the floor. Bastila turned the mask over and over in her hands, not fully believing her eyes. Revan closed her eyes and breathed a heavy sigh.

"Oh, no . . ." she whispered, dropping to her knees beside her daughter and trying to envelope the girl in a loving embrace. "Hawk, I—"

"Let go of me!" Hawk screamed, shrugging away from her mother. "How could you do this to me?! How could you lie to me all these years?!"

Her shrieks instantly drew her father and Canderous to the scene from the den. Carth raced into the room, and as soon as his eyes fell on Hawk, he rushed to her side and sank to the floor beside her. With a sob of agony, she turned and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him for support in this moment of crisis. Carth wrapped his arms around his daughter, tenderly smoothing her hair and gently rocking her, trying to calm her.

"It's okay, Hawk," he whispered, holding her tightly.

Hawk lifted her tear-stained face from his shoulder, and she searched his eyes for a moment with her own. It seemed as though she wanted him to tell her that this was all a horrible, horrible mistake, but she knew that no matter how badly she longed to hear those words, she never would. She could tell just by reading his eyes that he knew what was going on. For a moment, he seemed as if he was in as much anguish as she was, and for a moment, she felt a little less sorry for herself. But then she caught a glimpse of her mother out of the corner of her eye, and all her raging emotions flooded back.

"No, it's not okay!" she cried, pounding against his chest with her fists. "It's not! Why didn't you tell me?! _Why?!_"

Carth had no answer for her. He just grabbed her and pressed her head to his chest as she began to sob again. With a heavy sigh, he planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a slow, circular motion. When she was a baby, that motion had always calmed her. The slightest amount of pressure to her back could quiet her crying every time, without fail. This time, it was no different; it seemed to calm her cries into intermittent hiccups and sniffles. Revan reached over and placed her hand on Hawk's shoulder.

"Hawk, baby, I was hoping to wait another couple of years before getting to this, but I guess I don't have a choice. I guess it's time I explained."

Hawk turned her head slightly, revealing her red nose and puffy eyes. Her face was streaked with the salt of her tears as she gazed at her mother.

"Please don't, Mom," she begged. "I don't think I'm ready. B-besides, I found your diary. Can't I just read it from there?"

Revan nodded slowly, agreeing to this proposition. With a muffled sigh and a sniffle, Hawk crawled out of her father's arms and climbed to her feet. She exited the room and plodded listlessly up the stairs toward her bedroom, leaving her family staring concernedly after her as she disappeared into her room and quietly shut the door.


	5. Farewell

Disclaimer: **_Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. **_Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._

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**Chapter Five - Farewell**

Late that night, when all was dark and soundless, Hawk lay silently in her bed, staring up at the unchanging ceiling. Every few moments, she glanced across the room to her alarm clock. The minutes ticked past ever so slowly. The digital display read one-thirty, but she could have sworn five minutes had passed since it had read one-twenty-nine. The diary lay at her side, having been left open to the place she had last read. She had stopped reading at midnight, and the hour and a half that had passed since then had been spent in silent contemplation of the words she'd read. She knew what she'd read, and she'd understood most of it, but it was the words that were not written in the diary that confused her. She had so many questions about . . . well, _everything_, and most of them started with "why." However, not all of them had to do with Revan's past. There was something else written in that diary.

In her mind, Hawk traveled back to the day before she turned six. She recalled, very vividly, an eerie feeling of emptiness, as if there were a hole right in the very center of who she was. She did not doubt there was something missing, and every day for the past nine years, she'd wondered to herself what that something could possibly be. Now she knew, and it all started when she had stumbled across a name while flipping through the battered pages of her mother's diary.

Larka.

Larka Maria Onasi.

_Her sister._

Hawk closed her eyes and swallowed heavily as she pondered it. The emptiness she'd always felt was now clearly explained. _She was a twin._ A tear slipped from the inside corner of her eye and down her cheek before splattering against the pillow as her hand brushed against the diary entry from the day of her birth. Light from the Coruscant skyscrapers just outside her window streamed into her room to provide enough light to make out the words again as she lifted the book from its resting place.

"_June 3 — Our children were born today. I would be deliriously happy were it not for the fact that they were premature and the fact that they were born in the crew quarters of the _Ebon Hawk_. They were nearly a month early. My beautiful girls, both so small. They are identical twins with black hair and, I suppose, blue eyes . . . like mine. Larka Maria was the firstborn, but the joy of her birth quickly ended in sorrow. She was stillborn. She was already dead with Carth gave her to me. As I held her, I just couldn't believe that she was already dead. The pain of knowing that hurt worse than anything I've ever experienced. It hurt worse than the childbirth itself. We did get to take one holo of her, however. It looks as though she's only sleeping. Oh, Force, how I wish that were so._

_Hawk Andromeda was the second-born. We named her for the ship. She's so young, yet so feisty, but even then she just barely survived her own birth. Being premature isn't good for any baby, but though she's weak, I can tell that she's trying to survive. She has her father's spirit, I know. She hasn't stopped crying in an hour, though, but I suppose I should be grateful that she has a good pair of lungs in her. I just wish I knew why she hasn't stopped crying. I think it's because of Larka. I have no doubt that the two of them had a special bond between them while they were still in me, and Larka's death is hurting Hawk and causing a wound within her. My poor baby . . . I'm so sorry._

_We're heading back to Coruscant now. Carth's military meeting on Bespin can wait, or so he said. He told me he can just tell them it was a family emergency and all will be well. I just wish I'd never begged to come with him. If I hadn't, perhaps Larka would have survived._

Hawk threw herself into her pillow and began to sob into it as she hurled the diary to the floor. The emptiness she'd had to live with her entire life was now more painful than ever. She lay in her bed, quietly mourning the sister she'd never known, before realizing that she felt this sudden urge to _move_. She had to go somewhere, _anywhere_, to get away from this. First it was the revelation about her mother, and now it was this one about her sister. It was too much for her to handle, and she felt she just had to leave.

Quietly, she rolled out of bed and sneaked across the room to her closet. Once there, she threw open the doors and pulled out a tattered knapsack. She quickly shoved some clothes and her entire life's savings of a few hundred credits into it, being sure to fit in everything she could possibly need on an extended journey. She hastily dressed, pulling on the clothes she'd worn earlier that day and tugging on her old, beat-up jacket. Slinging the backpack over one shoulder, she slipped into on a pair of boots and crept from her bedroom.

Her steps took her toward her parents' room, where she cautiously cracked open the door and slipped inside. She inched toward the bed, watching her parents closely for any signs of movement. Nothing. They were sound asleep. Not even the roaring of a maglev train could have awakened them, which was what Hawk had been counting on all along. Still, as she watched her parents sleeping peacefully, she felt a pang of guilt. She loved her father dearly, and it pained her to break his heart, as she knew her actions would. For a moment, she considered returning to her bedroom and diving back under the covers, but she told herself that she just couldn't. She needed to get away, at least for a little while. Nevertheless, she turned and reached over to the nearby bedside table, groping for a pencil and a pad of paper. Thankfully, she found one, and she quickly scribbled out a note there in the darkness.

"_Daddy—_

_I'm sorry I had to do this, but I can't do the thinking I need to do while I'm still here. I'm taking the _Ebon Hawk_ and going for a little trip around the galaxy to try to sort some things out in my mind. I just want you to know that I love you very much, that I always have, and that I always will. I appreciate everything you've ever done for me, and having "Onasi" as my last name is the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, and will miss you greatly, but I'll be home soon._

_Love, Hawk"_

A tear rolled down her cheek as she placed the notepad onto the night stand and turned to leave the room. She stopped herself just before she stepped out the door, however, and returned to her father's side. She bent down and kissed him gently on the cheek, feeling, perhaps for the last time, the comforting scratchiness of his beard. Carth stirred only slightly, reaching up to run his hand lightly across his face before sliding closer to Revan, draping his arm across her waist, and dozing off again. Hawk stifled a sob of despair as she wheeled around and headed toward the door. Just before she left, she paused as she carefully lifted Carth's gunbelt from the back of a nearby chair and slipped one of his blasters into the holster. She slung it over her shoulder and took one last long, sorrowful glance at her parents' sleeping forms.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," she whispered. "I hope someday you and Mom will know why I had to do this."

With that, she turned and left the room, closing the door silently behind her as she headed toward the hangar to board the _Ebon Hawk_ and get somewhere far, far away.


	6. Coruscant in the Rearview Mirror

_Author's Note: My chapters are so short... Sorry._

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**Chapter Six - Coruscant in the Rear-View Mirror**

The _Ebon Hawk_ was sitting right where Hawk expected when she stepped through the doors of the hangar bay. Her eyes wandered across the ship's battle-scarred orange and white paint, lovingly caressing each bolt and scorch mark with her gaze. That ship was as much a part of her as the air she breathed. She smiled in spite of herself and quickly strode up to the ship's side. As she reached for the hidden switch that would extend the loading ramp, she heard the familiar sound of clanking metal approaching from the shadows.

"Query: Mistress, just _what_ do you think you're doing?"

Hawk groaned inwardly and snapped her eyes shut, resisting the urge to smack her forehead with the palm of her hand. She turned slowly, pasting on a tight smile, as she found herself coming face-to-face with none other than HK-47.

"HK," she said, addressing the droid through slightly clenched teeth. "How _nice_ of you to show up."

"Statement: Of _course_ it is, Mistress. I'm always punctual. But you failed to answer my question. Query: What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm leaving for a while," Hawk answered bluntly, proceeding to lower the loading ramp.

"Earnest Statement: Oh, Mistress, you _know_ I can never allow that to happen. Meatbag assailants would surely overwhelm you!"

"Which is precisely why you're coming along with me," Hawk said, a small smile slowly creeping across her face as she watched the rust-colored droid. "You know I'm leaving, so I can't just let you stay here and get my parents after me. You'll come along, and if you ever so much as think about phoning home and getting me tracked down, I'll blast you into scrap quicker than you can say 'Statement!'"

The droid seemed to be taken aback by her sudden threat, and it seemed as though a gasp of shock issued from his vocabulator.

"Exclamation: Mistress, you wouldn't! I am a prime piece of mechanical engineering, and you'll never find—"

"I know, I know," Hawk interrupted. "I'll never find another assassin droid like you because all others are cheap knock-offs incapable of eliminating meatbags."

"Statement: Well, I'm glad you've finally begun to agree with me."

"Just get in the ship!" Hawk cried, exasperated.

With what sounded like a huff of indignation, HK-47 strode up the loading ramp of the _Ebon Hawk_. Hawk followed and was just about to retract the ramp when a long series of beeps and whistles suddenly echoed through the hangar. She turned in time to see little T3-M4 roll up next to the ship. He blipped anxiously, rocking back and forth on his wheels.

"All right, T3," Hawk sighed, "you can come, too."

The astromech whistled happily as he raced up the loading ramp and into the ship's heart. Hawk sighed, shaking her head and laughing inwardly as she turned to follow. The loading ramp retracted as she disappeared into the _Hawk_'s interior, heading for the cockpit.

Upon arriving in the cockpit, she sank slowly into the pilot's chair, sliding her back against the worn leather covering. With a deep sigh of contentment, she ran her hands across the control panel, gently fingering each switch. She smiled slightly as a sensation of warmth rushed through her, and she knew the cause of it was being so close to the _Hawk_ again.

"_Hey, baby,"_ she thought. _"Long time, no see, hmm? How about we see what you can do for me today? That's a good girl."_

It seemed as though the ship shuddered with delight at being flown once more as Hawk fired up the engines and carefully eased the _Hawk_ from its hangar. As the little freighter glided, bound for the space lanes, in between the Coruscant skyscrapers, Hawk flipped through the navicomputer in search of a destination. It didn't take her long to settle on the smuggler's moon of Nar Shaddaa, and she glided out of Coruscant's atmosphere without so much as a nod from the air traffic controllers down on the ground.

"_That's one good point about having a dad who's in charge of the entire Republic fleet,"_ she smiled to herself. _"They let us come and go as we please without asking for departure codes."_

That smile was wiped from her face, though, as she glanced out the window to the glittering city lights. She seemed on the verge of tears as she thought about leaving her father behind, but she hastily reminded herself that she just couldn't stay planet-bound when she had so much on her mind. She reminded herself of how badly she had yearned to be free and moving, and before she could change her mind, her hand went for the lever that would kick the hyperdrive into high gear. Just before she pulled the lever, however, HK-47 strode into the cockpit.

"Query: Mistress, what is our destination?"

Hawk's grip tightened on the lever as she began to pull.

"Nar Shaddaa," she answered. "Hang on."

As she pulled the lever back completely, the stars streaked by and she made a pleasantly successful hyperspace jump. Part of her wanted to cheer with joy at being in hyperspace by herself as she watched the stars swirl past, but another part just felt like crying with the fear and unease that came with being out on her own. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in the pilot's chair, catching a whiff of Carth's aftershave that remained on the leather since the last time he took the _Hawk_ out for a spin. She couldn't help herself, and she began to cry despite her most valiant efforts to the contrary.


	7. Nar Shaddaa

Disclaimer:** _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_.** _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._

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**Chapter Seven - Nar Shaddaa**

It was the middle of the next morning when Hawk pulled out of hyperspace right at the Smuggler's Moon's front door. She almost missed a decent landing pad, for she had been sound asleep in the cockpit until the _Ebon Hawk_'s controls started beeping frantically at her. It was only then that she jerked herself awake and slipped, unnoticed, between the high rises toward her destination. Her landing was quite sloppy, and she had to switch to autopilot to keep from suddenly crashing.

When the ship was stationary, Hawk rose from her seat, swearing at herself for that rough landing. She kept muttering to herself, trying to swallow her nervousness at being on a planet as notorious as Nar Shaddaa as she strode to the main hold to fetch her knapsack. When she grabbed the bag, she promptly strapped on Carth's gunbelt. It was a good bit loose, but she made up the difference by hauling it off to the workbench in the garage and stabbing an extra couple of holes in it. As she buckled it around her waist and hip the second time, she noted that it fit much better, and she nodded with approval as she lovingly stroked the supple leather.

Returning to the main hold, she slipped her father's blaster into the holster and knotted the thigh strap securely around her leg. Turning, she stole a quick look at her reflection in a nearby panel, and she sighed. If it weren't for the fact that she looked . . . well,_ green_, she would have given the appearance of a seasoned spacer. She eyed herself critically, noting things about her attire that loudly screamed "I'm a newbie!" Her shoulder-length hair was too prim and proper; if anything, it needed to be a bit messier. Remembering a strip of leather that had lain hidden in one of her knapsack's pockets, Hawk went hunting for it. Upon finding it, she quickly tied her hair back into a casual ponytail, being certain to leave her bangs out. She returned to examine her reflection in the panel and found that, except for her tattered navy blue jacket, she still looked like a novice kid.

As Hawk gazed at herself with an air of dissatisfaction, she suddenly remembered a couple of other things she'd tucked into her knapsack the previous night, and she made a mad lunge to her bag in search of them. Finally, she pulled out her pair of mechanics' gloves and a well-worn pazaak deck that had been given to her by a friend. She quickly tugged the gloves on and shoved the cards into her jacket's pocket. The gloves were pitch-black fingerless ones, and when she pulled them on and snapped them closed, they came up to her wrist. Hawk turned, still eyeing herself in the panel. This time, she nodded happily. She finally looked as if she belonged on the moon.

Striding toward the loading ramp and trying to perfect an overconfident swagger, Hawk was suddenly intercepted by a certain homicidal droid. He easily blocked her exit from the ship, and Hawk rolled her eyes impatiently.

"HK," she sighed. "Move it."

"Statement: Mistress, I am unable to allow you to set foot on this meatbag-infested world without accompanying you."

"Oh, yeah?" Hawk challenged, placing her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow with faint amusement. "And just _how_ do you expect to do that when you're _here_ and I'm _not_?"

That seemed to silence the droid for a minute, and Hawk quickly pushed past him and strode down the loading ramp. HK followed her soon enough, however, not letting himself be brushed off that easily.

"Defiant Statement: I _am_ going to accompany you, Mistress," he said. "Threat: Do not make me call your mother to come and get you."

Hawk spun around, her eyes burning.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Smug Answer: Oh, _wouldn't_ I?"

Hawk found herself positively infuriated with the droid. She growled under her breath, brushing her fingers through her bangs. Finally, after a moment, she nodded her consent.

"Fine, fine," she sighed. "Come on. But if this boat gets overrun with 'meatbags' while we're out, I'm pinning the blame on _you_."

With that, she left the ship in T3's care. Her card deck felt heavy in her jacket pocket as she caught sight of what might be a cantina and made a beeline for it. If she were going to somehow make a few credits, a cantina with a few insatiable pazaak addicts would be the place to do it. She could play a good hand, and she figured she had a pretty good chance of coming out with her wallet just a little fatter. As she made her way to the cantina's entrance, HK-47 was quite close behind her no matter what, and for a moment, she contemplated buying an ion grenade and knocking him out of commission with it. But then she realized that if her opponent at the pazaak table decided to cheat her out of her money, HK would be right there ready to defend her. That thought pleased her (though she wondered why), and she headed right through the door of the cantina and into the smoky establishment.


	8. On the Hunt for Hawk

Disclaimer:** _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_.** _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._

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**Chapter Eight - On the Hunt for Hawk**

"There's no trace of her, sir."

"Well, try again, Lieutenant! I won't lose my daughter to this cess pit of a galaxy!"

Carth paced nervously up and down the length of his office inside the Republic Embassy. He ran one hand anxiously through his hair as he exhaled heavily and glanced down to the scribbled-out note in his other hand. He quickly scanned the jotted words for perhaps the hundredth time that day, not really believing he was reading. This was just such a shock to him. When he had awakened earlier that morning, he had gone to Hawk's bedroom to wake her as he always did only to find her bed empty and no sign of her. He had found clothes missing from her closet and the lock on her money safe bypassed. It was then that he had returned to his room to break the horrible news to Revan when he'd found his blaster gone and the note beside his pillow. And now, as he tried to find his daughter and as he read and reread the note, he felt as though he were going to break down and cry. Though he was willing to give Hawk time to think, he wanted so badly to find her and bring her home. Every man that could be spared was scanning the galaxy for the _Ebon Hawk_ in hopes of locating the girl, but so far, they'd had no luck. Carth began to feel sick when the horrid thought of never seeing Hawk again suddenly crossed his mind.

"Why is it always the women in my life that skip town?" he muttered to himself as he turned on heel for another lap across the room. "I should have seen this one coming. Hawk's reaction was so bad that I should have known this would be her first move! Curse you, genetics, for making my daughter so much like_ me_!"

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Revan, who was sitting in a nearby chair, asked.

Carth spun around quickly, his distress evident in his whiskey colored eyes. They flashed like lightning as he clenched his fist so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Of _course_ I'm talking to myself again!" he snapped before realizing how sharp his tone was. He sighed, slumping his shoulders forward and shaking his head. "Sorry, Rev. It's just that I'm so worried about her."

"I am too," Revan replied softly, rising and walking to his side. She tenderly brushed her hand across his cheek, gazing into his eyes. "But you ought to_ try_ to be a little calmer. You're getting pretty testy."

"Testy? _Testy?!_" Carth spat, his raw nerves shining through again. "I'm the frackin' Admiral of this frackin' Republic, and I can be as frackin' testy as I frackin' want!"

With that, he turned and strode to the office's window, where he pressed his hands tightly to the windowsill and hunched his back slightly as he heaved a shuddering sigh.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as Revan walked up beside him and began to rub his back. "I'm just . . . I'm so _scared_ for her."

"I know," Revan answered, just as quietly. She gently squeezed his shoulder. "I can't help but feel that this is all my fault. I should have taken her aside one day and explained everything."

"No," Carth replied, turning and squeezing his wife's hand gently between his. "It was both our faults, if you have to put the blame somewhere. We should have told her sooner. We should have told her when she was younger. Perhaps then she would have been better able to accept it. We shouldn't have waited until she heard all those stories about the Dark Lord Revan. Now I'm not entirely sure if she'll ever be able to come to terms with it." He noticed Revan's eyes filling with tears, and he tried to smile. "Don't worry, Beautiful; we'll find her."

With a deep sigh, Revan leaned her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes, clinging tightly to him.

"I hope you're right. Oh, Force, I hope you're right."


	9. Pazaak Match

Disclaimer:** _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_.** _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._

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**Chapter Nine - Pazaak Match**

The Nar Shaddaa cantina was dimly lit and smelled strongly of whiskey, as most cantinas do, but it seemed to have a friendly atmosphere. It wasn't incredibly large as cantinas go, but it seemed cozy enough. If it was possible to be put at ease inside a cantina, Hawk was. She noticed that her stance seemed to relax considerably as she walked farther into the room, though she could hear HK's gears whirring as he cautiously tilted his head from side to side, scanning the cantina for any possible threats. Hawk approached the bar, where she found the bartender drying the inside of a glass with a large blue towel. As soon as he noticed Hawk, he smiled pleasantly and set the glass aside.

"How'do, miss?" he greeted her. "What can I do ya for? Lookin' for any special backwash?"

"No, thanks," Hawk replied. "D'you know where I can find a good pazaak game?"

The bartender nodded and leaned a little closer to her. He motioned to a booth over on the other side of the room. Hawk strained her eyes to more clearly see the figure who sat there, but she couldn't quite do it. All she saw was a shadowy silhouette.

"See that there booth?" the bartender asked, and she nodded. "There's a young feller over there who's been hangin' around trying to catch a game. He pretends to be a real card shark, but I think, if you have a good side deck, you can beat him nice 'n' easy."

"Thanks," Hawk answered.

She turned and headed toward the booth pointed out to her. HK began to follow, but she reached back and put a hand on his chassis.

"You stay by the bar," she instructed. "Keep a low profile, and don't shoot anything unless I'm down on the ground bleeding, got it?"

"Resigned Statement: _Yes_, Mistress. I will stay here where it is so incredibly _dull_."

Hawk chuckled to herself as she strode across the room, casually trying out her new swagger. It was subtle, but she felt as though it was just enough to show that she was—what was the term?—a cool cat. As she approached the booth, she found herself meeting a boy no older than sixteen who sat shuffling his cards around. He had sandy blond hair that swept down over his eyes, which were a pristine green color. They might have been a shade of emerald if the light in the cantina hadn't been so dim. He wore a hunter green military-style jacket with flap pockets and a stand collar that hugged his suntanned neck in a most flattering manner. When Hawk walked near to him, he glanced up.

"Got business with me?" he asked, his voice quiet but etched with what seemed to be a false tone of gruffness.

Hawk nodded slowly, pulling her pazaak deck from the pocket of her own jacket.

"Barkeep said you'd be up for a game," she replied, flashing the cards at him.

The young man gestured to the seat across the table from him, and Hawk slid into it. He stuck his hand out to her, offering a friendly handshake.

"The name's Jardin. Jardin Elgon," he said with a faint smile.

"Hawk," Hawk replied, introducing herself as she accepted his handshake.

"Got a last name?" Jardin questioned with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Not one that I care to blab."

Jardin seemed to accept this, and he gave his cards another little shuffle.

"You familiar with the rules of the game?"

Hawk leaned forward across the table and smirked roguishly.

"If I wasn't, would I have my own deck?"

Jardin chuckled lightly before shifting slightly in his seat.

"Here're the terms of the game," he said. "I'm itching for a good match. I had one a couple days ago and came away with a boatload of credits, and you seem like you could give me a repeat performance."

He slipped a small moneybag from his jacket's pocket and set it on the table. It was nice and fat and Hawk couldn't help eyeing it when she heard the way it clanked against the wood. Jardin smiled.

"If you've got credits, put 'em in the pot. Winner takes all."

Hawk slowly ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she studied the bulging money sack. This was about to be the biggest gamble of her entire life. Her hand went for her pocket, where she withdrew every single credit she owned. Quickly, she counted them out for a grand total of five hundred and forty-two, trying to ignore the fact that if she lost, she'd have to go home and explain to her parents how she had managed to lose over five hundred credits. She gave a grin of confidence and smacked the money down next to Jardin's.

"You're on, hotshot," she smirked.

Jardin leaned back against the booth, crossing his arms casually.

"You're the newcomer," he said, motioning to Hawk's deck, "you deal."

"It'll be my utmost pleasure," Hawk snickered.

Her hands flew as she dealt the cards for the first set, and she settled into her seat for the most exciting, yet most frightening, pazaak match of her life.


	10. Jardin Joins the Journey

**Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Ten - Jardin Joins the Journey**

An hour later, it was a tight match. Hawk had won two sets, and Jardin had won two as well. Now they sat quietly, carefully studying their respective cards. Hawk tried not to think about the money, but she couldn't help herself. Every time she stole a glance at the bag, she was reminded of the fact that if she lost, she would have to hightail it back to Coruscant, and she certainly didn't want that. She wanted to see the galaxy for herself, and the only way to do that was if she had money.

Glancing up, she realized that Jardin had finished his turn and spread his cards across the table while he waited for her to make her move. When she arched her eyebrow to question his total for that hand, he smiled smugly and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Eighteen."

Hawk gulped as she stared at her own hand. That was exactly what she had, and no card she had grabbed from her side deck would take her up to twenty. She had a plus-three and a minus-one, nothing more. Her only hope was if she drew a two from the deck. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a moment, she inched her hand toward the deck and slowly grabbed hold of the top card. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she brought the card to her hand and sneaked a peek at it. There was a plus sign and a—

She gasped, and her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the little two written on the card's face. She had to stare at it for a good long minute before realization finally leaped up and smacked her in the face. With a broad smile, she threw her cards down upon the table.

"Twenty!" she cried triumphantly.

With a low chuckle of delight, she wrapped her arms around the money and pulled it across the table toward herself. Jardin smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, frustrated. It seemed to Hawk that he swore under his breath, but she didn't care. Happily, she counted out her newfound wealth. The number quickly rose from her five hundred and forty-two credits to the lovely sum of over three thousand! She resisted the urge to squeal with joy as she shoved all the money into the little sack (which now was becoming _much_ too small). Grinning somewhat smugly at Jardin, she rose from the booth, having collected both her cards and her money.

"Good match," she said, extending her hand. "You played well. It just looks like I played a little bit better."

Jardin nodded slowly as he shook her hand. She turned to leave the cantina and continue on her journey when he placed his hand on her shoulder and stopped her. She turned back to him, one eyebrow raised in query.

"Hey," he said sheepishly. "Listen, uh, now that you've, well, got all my money . . . Uh, well, I'm thinking it's about time I got off this moon . . ."

". . . And?" Hawk crossed her arms.

"And, uh, you've obviously got a ship that you came in on. And, uh, if you'd take me with you wherever you're going, I could make myself real handy."

"Sounds like you're just trying to hitch a ride to the next dive," Hawk said.

"No way!" Jardin protested. "I'm pretty good with a hydrospanner, so if you need a mechanic, I could . . ."

"Nope."

"What, you've got one?!" Jardin's mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Yeah!" Hawk replied, pointing to herself. "_Me!_"

"Well, then, could you use a pilot?" Jardin asked hopefully.

"Sorry," Hawk answered with a shake of her head. "The cockpit is _my_ turf."

"Oh."

Jardin sounded disheartened, and Hawk took pity on him. She studied him for a few minutes, weighing what he _looked_ like he was against what he could actually _be_. He seemed all right to her, and she remembered how boring it was on the ship with no one to talk to. Well, there _was_ HK-47, but he was homicidal, after all. There was T3-M4, too, but he only answered in bleeps and blips that got pretty darn annoying after a while. Hawk decided that it might be nice to have someone sentient to talk to. And besides, if he was really as good with a hydrospanner as he claimed, he might be able to do his share, as well.

"I don't need a mechanic or a pilot," she smiled, "but I _could_ use some company."

Jardin's face seemed to light up at her words.

"Really?"

"Why not? It's just me and a pair of droids on that boat, so if you wanna come along, you're welcome to a bunk. One condition, though."

"Whoo, boy," Jardin chuckled. "I'm not entirely sure if I like the sound of that."

"Nothin' to it. It's just that I know you're only a year older than me, maybe two, and I've had the . . . _twisted_ . . . side of a teenage boy's mind explained to me . . . and I don't like it. You try anything stupid, _vod_ (and you know what I mean by "stupid"), and I'll shoot you down before you can even pucker up. Got it?"

Jardin nodded in affirmation and perhaps a bit of terror, and Hawk stuck out her hand, grinning warmly.

"Good. I think I just may be glad to have you aboard. Let's go. I'll introduce you to the ship."

She turned around and headed toward the bar, stopping when she was a few feet away and motioning for HK-47 to come to her side. The droid hurried over, and when he arrived, he began eyeing Jardin suspiciously. He raised his blaster rifle to firing height, being sure that Jardin could clearly see that monstrosity of the weapon. The ploy worked, for Jardin gulped slightly. Hawk never even noticed as she introduced the boy to the droid.

"HK, this is Jardin Elgon. Jardin, this is HK-47."

There was no "Pleased to meet you" or "Pleasure's all mine" from either side of the discussion. There was just silence as Jardin and HK eyed each other warily.

"Query: Mistress, is this meatbag youth to be accompanying us now?"

"_Yes_, HK."

HK continued to study Jardin with a cautious photoreceptor. From the way he drummed his metallic fingers on the barrel of his rifle, Hawk could tell that he already disliked poor Jardin, and she could not help but smile faintly with pity for the lad.

"Threat: If the thought of harming her so much as crosses your meatbag, and therefore inferior, mind, I will personally blast you from here back to the Core Worlds!"

The droid turned and left the cantina to wait by the door for Hawk and Jardin to follow. Hawk started to leave as well, but she suddenly noticed how pale Jardin had become.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Is he . . . _always_ like that?" Jardin asked, startled.

"Yup," Hawk replied, a sly grin sneaking onto her face. "What did you think the HK designation stood for, anyway? 'Hugs-and-Kisses'?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but . . . what _does_ it stand for?"

"Hunter-Killer," Hawk answered simply. Jardin shuddered at the thought, and she pretended not to notice. "His primary function is assassination, though he _does_ have some of the same functionalities as protocol droids."

"So he's like a protocol droid gone berserk," Jardin muttered.

HK poked his head around the doorway just then.

"Statement: Young meatbag, I resent that comment!"

"Uhh, sorry . . ." Jardin said while shrinking back behind Hawk for fear of the HK unit.

Hawk could not help but snicker at Jardin's reaction, and after a moment, she pulled him toward the door. They were just passing the bar when a patron that had obviously had one too many shots of juma juice backed right into Hawk, nearly knocking her to the floor. He spun around, sloshing juma out of his glass and all over himself as he staggered to where Hawk was dusting herself off with Jardin standing protectively by her side.

"An'jus'whaddaya thin'yurdoin', eh, lil'missy?" he growled, his voice slurred. "Mebbe you oughtta star'watchin' whereyurgoin'."

"Maybe _you_ should start watching how much you drink, _sir_," Hawk answered tightly, reaching up and snatching the glass from his hand. She promptly poured the liquid out onto the carpet and tossed the glass to the bartender. "If you were to do _that_, then perhaps you wouldn't be running into people!"

"_I'm_ runnin'inta'pipple?" the drunk roared. "Now y'see'ere, lil'missy. I was jus'watchin' wha' I was doin', an' I was jus'mindin' m'own bizznizz when you come runnin'ova'me!"

"I beg to differ!" Hawk argued. She was about to say something more when Jardin grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the cantina.

The drunk man watched her go (though he probably only saw a blurry shape) before returning to the bar. He motioned for the bartender to hit him with another drink as a friend of his, obviously a bounty hunter (judging from his armor and the slew of weapons he carried), sidled up to him. The way the bounty hunter treated his friend indicated that the drunken man was yet another hunter.

"Do you know who that was?" the sober hunter asked.

"Nuh'uh."

"I got a good look at her blaster, and it's got the Onasi crest on it. That girl is the daughter of that Republic admiral, I'll bet!"

"_Nuh'uh!_"

"Mm-hmm, I'll bet. And I'll bet she's worth a fortune." He leaned in closer to the second bounty hunter, pushing the bottle of juma away from him as he began to whisper. "Now listen here. I'll bet if we were to . . . And if we were gonna . . . Then maybe we could . . . ! Whatcha think?"

The second bounty hunter perked up despite his drunken state, and he nodded emphatically. He pounded his fist against the side of his holster and grinned stupidly.

"I think mebbe we oughtta go tell th'boss."


	11. Introduction to the Hawk

Disclaimer:** _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_.** _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._

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**Chapter Eleven - Introduction to the **_**Hawk**_

"Well, here she is. The _Ebon Hawk_, my baby."

Hawk leaned up against the ship's battered hull, lovingly running her hand across the scratched paint. Jardin just stood staring at the _Hawk_, one eyebrow arched questioningly. He eyed it accusingly, crossing his arms.

"You call _that_ a ship?" he scoffed.

"Yes, I do," Hawk answered, her eyes narrowing. "But just what would _you_ call it?"

"_I'd_ call it a scrap heap."

Hawk frowned and stepped forward with one fist clenched. Jardin scooted backward, raising his hands in self-defense.

"Hey, hey, I was just joking! Uh, she's a lovely ship. Really!"

Hawk seemed to relax, and she gently caressed the hull, letting herself study each individual battle scar and bit of carbon scoring. She could tell, even at her young age, that the ship had been through some major battles in its life. Oh, if the _Ebon Hawk_ could talk, what stories must it have to tell! Hawk wished with her very essence to hear some of the stories that the plucky little freighter knew. With a smile, she turned back to Jardin, one hand resting protectively on the hull.

"She used to be the fastest ship in the 'verse, you know," she said before giving a light chuckle. "She still would be if I could find some decent upgrade parts for her, but you know how it is. Even with all the credits I won off you, I could never afford a new hyperdrive or an upgrade on her ion engines. I mean, T3 takes care of her as best he can, but he's just a droid. It's not like he'd be able to buy an entirely new hyperdrive for her."

"I told you I'm pretty handy with a hydrospanner," Jardin said. "Maybe I could take a look at her 'drive, see what I can do?"

"Maybe," Hawk shrugged. "You'll have to talk to T3. Just like the cockpit is my turf, the engine room is his. Besides, you'll need more than a hydrospanner to get her in first-class condition. You'll need just about every wrench and screwdriver there is in this galaxy!"

Laughing, she headed up the loading ramp and into the _Ebon Hawk_ with Jardin close behind her. Once they reached the interior, Hawk waved her hand slightly to introduce the main hold.

"This is the main hold," she said. "You can get anywhere on this ship from here, basically. The 'fresher is that way, and the galley's over there . . . Medbay's in that direction, the cargo hold's through that corridor there, and the cockpit's up that ramp. Any questions?"

"Where can I find my bunk?"

Hawk nodded to the side, motioning for him to follow her. They headed over to the port side of the ship and walked into a small dormitory. Hawk leaned up against the wall as Jardin walked farther into the room to inspect it.

"You can stay here," she said as he tested a bunk for softness. "My room's the other dorm on the starboard side."

"You've got nice bunks in here," Jardin commented. "I used to stay in a little room above the cantina, and the bed in there was nowhere as soft as this."

Hawk smiled faintly.

"Well, it ain't as soft as the one I had at home, but it serves its purpose."

Jardin looked up at her, an expression of curiosity on his face.

"Where was 'home'?" he asked.

"Coruscant," Hawk said simply, offering no elaboration. "How 'bout you?"

"Me? I'm from Alderaan, originally," Jardin replied, also offering nothing more. "Got any family?"

"Yeah, a little," Hawk shrugged, feeling quite uncomfortable. "I don't really want to talk about them, though, if that's okay."

Jardin nodded, and Hawk inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to leave the dorm, but she stopped and spoke to him over her shoulder.

"I'm gonna go get a little rest," she said. "I'd like to go out later and get some new equipment and see the sights."

"There's not much to see," Jardin answered, rather dejectedly. "If you've seen one part of Nar Shaddaa, you've seen it all."

"Oh, you've been here that long?"

Jardin shrugged, but he said nothing. Taking the hint, Hawk left him alone and headed toward her own room to grab an hour or two of some much-needed sleep. She had forgotten how tired she really was, and she was out like a light bulb less than a minute after her head touched the pillow on her bunk.


	12. The Stranger and the Bounty Hunter

Disclaimer:** _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_.** _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._**

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**Chapter Twelve - The Stranger and the Bounty Hunter**

Hawk didn't awaken until it was nighttime on Nar Shaddaa. Normally, she would have been grateful that she had slept that long, but this time, she was none too pleased about it. By now, she knew, all the merchants would have closed up shop for the evening and her chance at getting a few extra weapons and more supplies had just fallen out of the airlock. With a groan, she rolled out of her bunk and shuffled from the dorm. Had it been daylight outside, one would have thought she had just had a horrible night's sleep. She stumbled down the hall toward the refresher, and on her way, she passed Jardin in the galley.

"Hey, Hawk," he said, a sandwich in one hand and a glass of fruit juice in his other, "you finally woke up."

"Yeah," Hawk sighed. "I guess I didn't realize how tired I was."

"I checked on you once or twice, and you were sleeping like a rock!"

"Well, it _was_ a pretty nice little nap," she laughed. "Listen, I'm going to the 'fresher, and then I'm going out to do a little exploring. Wanna come?"

"Nar Shaddaa? _At night?_" Jardin questioned. He shook his head in disbelief. "You're either really brave or really crazy . . . or both."

"Actually, I'm just someone who slept too long," Hawk returned with a toss of her head as she headed down the hall.

A few minutes later, she stepped out of the 'fresher, appearing very perky and ready to go. She returned to the galley and found Jardin exactly as she'd left him: with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of fruit juice in the other. She leaned in the doorway, crossing her arms and watching him.

"Still on the same sandwich?" she asked with a chuckle.

Jardin shook his head and swallowed the chunk of bread in his mouth, following it closely by a swig of juice.

"It's my third," he said when his mouth was clear.

"_THIRD?!_" Hawk gasped with surprise.

"Hey, I was hungry!"

Hawk couldn't help but laugh when she saw the adorably pitiful little expression on the boy's face, but she soon grabbed a hold of herself and silenced herself. She land a hand on Jardin's shoulder, smiling.

"I'm sorry," she said, still trying not to laugh. "It's just I've never met somebody who can down three sandwiches in five minutes!"

Jardin grinned sheepishly as his cheeks flushed into a soft pink. He was about to make himself a fourth sandwich when Hawk grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out of the galley.

"Come on," she said. "We've still got some time to explore this planet."

"I still think you're nuts to go out there at this time of night. Remember, I've lived here longer than you have!"

"Which is precisely why _you're_ coming along," Hawk replied, and she motioned to the blaster at his hip. "Keep that close by. Exploring usually comes with a little bit of trouble, right?"

Jardin sighed and shook his head as she turned and headed down the _Ebon Hawk_'s loading ramp after leaving HK-47 and T3-M4 in charge of the ship. Finally, he followed her down the ramp and out onto the landing pad. He had to run a short distance in order to catch up with her, for she was already a good ten feet ahead of him by the time he even set foot on the landing pad. When he did catch up with her, however, she smiled warmly in a way that told him how she welcomed his company. He returned her smile with a small grin of his own as they rounded a corner, and that was when they ran into trouble.

They found themselves face-to-face with the pair of bounty hunters who had been at the cantina, and with those two scumbags was another scumbag who seemed much larger and tougher than the other two. He was the one in charge, Hawk surmised. She managed to steal a glance at the twin blasters sitting patiently in his holsters and jumped slightly when she realized that they were illegally modified. Another glance told her that the blasters were modified to shoot bullets instead of lasers, and her stomach suddenly tightened. She was just about to warn Jardin to be careful when the blasters' owner spoke.

"My men tell me you're of relation to someone quite high up in the Republic," he said coolly. "As you can see, that interests me quite greatly."

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Hawk lied flatly.

"_Oh-h?_ I don't quite understand this, since you _are_ flying _his_ ship, and you _are_ wearing _his_ blaster."

Hawk arched an eyebrow at the man as Jardin stepped up and in front of her.

"Look, pal," he said. "Don't you think you ought to introduce yourself before you go off on some kick telling her who she is and isn't related to? I mean, seriously. We're not gonna be here all day."

"Oh, of course! How stupid of me!" the man exclaimed. "I am called Trandor Vinn, though most know me only by reputation."

"And what reputation is that?" Hawk questioned.

"I am in charge of one of the most well-known organizations of bounty hunters in this entire galaxy."

Hawk and Jardin exchanged a brief glance that said, "Bounty hunters, eh?" They seemed to feel quite confident that they could take these guys, and Jardin lazily drummed his fingers on his holster

"So, uh, Mr. Vinn, why exactly are you bothering us again?" Hawk asked, feigning a yawn of boredom. "Because, you see, we're quite busy."

"We know who your father is," Vinn replied, "and if we can capture you, perhaps we can ransom you back to the Republic for more credits than you've ever had the opportunity to gaze upon!"

"Ah, so I'm your ticket to quick money?"

"If that is your choice of terminology, then, yes."

"Well, how do you like that?" Hawk turned to Jardin with a little smirk on her face. She nodded toward the trio of bounty hunters. "Nothin' quite like being a dejarik pawn, now is there?"

"Nope," Jardin replied, deadpan, as he looked Vinn straight in the eye. He stepped forward, slightly in front of Hawk, as if to protect her. "You won't take her. You'll have to get through me first."

"Easy enough," Vinn shrugged.

Without saying another word, he pulled one of his blasters from its holster faster than Jardin or Hawk could blink. His speed was incredible as he squeezed the trigger. Jardin had no time to react before he gasped in pain and fell backwards, the front of his jacket stained with his blood. Hawk half-screamed in terror as she cried his name and sank to her knees at his side. Quickly, she checked his vital signs. His breathing was all right, for the time being, though she could hear a faint wheeze in every shallow breath he took that worsened by the minute. She ran her hand lightly across his chest and found the bullet hole. It was deep, she could tell, and she breathed a shaky sigh. Slowly, she turned to glare at Trandor Vinn.

"You _devil_, you!" she shouted, angry and incredibly frightened.

Vinn said nothing to her, instead nodding to his men.

"Get her, boys," he growled.

At that cue, the two other bounty hunters charged at Hawk. One grabbed her and tried to pin her down, and the other tried to bind and gag her. Hawk put up quite a fight, kicking and scratching as hard as she could and biting whenever she got the chance. She struggled to free herself and managed to swiftly kick one of the hunters in the stomach. Enraged, he pulled out a huge ivory-handled knife and drove it into her side. Hawk screamed in agony as her blood rushed out and puddled on the ground, but she tried even harder to get free. She cried for help, but it seemed as though her cries were in vain. She twisted her head around, managing to sink her teeth into the bounty hunter's arm. Instead of getting him to back off, however, her bite only angered him even further, and he shoved his knife deeply into her side again. Hawk tried to cry out in pain, but his hand clamped down on her mouth and silenced her. She still tried to struggle free of the bounty hunters' grasps, but the loss of blood from her side was quickly draining her strength.

It was at that moment when all hope seemed lost that her savior arrived. He seemed to have come from nowhere. It was almost as if he had magically appeared out of thin air as he raced up to the scene and pulled the bounty hunters away from Hawk. When the two hunters tried to attack him, he dodged them quickly before knocking them both unconscious with incredibly hard uppercuts to their faces. As the two hunters collapsed to the ground, the stranger spun around to face Trandor Vinn. His were narrowed into tiny slits as he lifted his fists in a challenge to the crime lord.

"I see you're scraping the bottom of the barrel, Trandor," he said hotly, "if you're running around attacking _kids_."

"_You!_" Vinn gasped.

"Yeah, _me_."

"I never thought I'd see _you_ again!"

"Why? Did you think you killed me the last time? Sorry, but obviously you're worse with a blaster than you like to think."

"Why don't you just get out of here?"

"Because you're threatening the lives of kids, that's why."

"That is none of your concern! This is a matter of business within my organization!"

"'Business'?" the stranger scoffed. "Times must be hard if you're making your living off a couple of teenagers."

Vinn looked over at Hawk and Jardin, who were lying motionless in the street in pools of their own blood. The ground was stained into a deep red from their blood as it gushed from their wounds, yet he felt no shame for his deed.

"I only wanted _her_," he said, motioning to Hawk's limp body. "The boy was of no concern to me. He got in the way."

"So you shot him. But would you care to explain why you were preying on the girl? Ooh, wait. It's not because your Twi'lek schutta quit on you, is it? That _would_ be a crippling blow to your love life, eh?"

Vinn gasped in indignation as the stranger chuckled, and he sputtered around with his words for a minute.

"She is worth millions of credits! Do you have any idea who she is?"

"Yeah, I'd say I've got a pretty good one," the stranger answered.

Suddenly, he whipped his blaster from its holster and fired a shot right through Vinn's kneecap. The crime lord staggered backwards, grasping at the wall behind him for support.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It must have misfired," he deadpanned before glaring at Vinn. "Now get out of here before I decide to do more than bust up your leg. And if I catch you siccing more of your little pet kath hounds on those kids, I'll _definitely_ do more than just take out your knee."

He turned and knelt beside Hawk and Jardin as Vinn and his goons limped away in defeat. The stranger gently pressed his first two fingers against the side of Hawk's neck, checking for a pulse. Though it was faint, he found one, and he pulled a bandana from his pocket to try to stop the heavy bleeding from her wounds. As he pressed the cloth against her side, Hawk stirred slightly and rolled over just enough to get a halfway decent view of her rescuer.

"Wh . . . Who are you?" she moaned.

"Not right now. I'm gonna get you someplace where you can get help."

Hawk feebly pointed toward Jardin, grimacing in immense pain.

"Help him first," she whispered as her eyes closed and she passed out again.

As the stranger moved to Jardin's side, a boy, perhaps only seventeen years old, stepped out from the shadows and approached the scene. He walked up alongside the first man, carefully eyeing the surroundings.

"Are they okay, Dad?" he asked quietly.

The stranger nodded slightly, scooping Hawk's unconscious figure up into his arms. He nodded toward the boy, motioning to Jardin with a subtle jerk of his head.

"You get him. We're taking them home with us. Your mother's gonna know how to help them. They'll be fine then. I hope."

As the lad bent down and draped Jardin's arm across his shoulder and stood, he caught a good look at Hawk's face. His mouth dropped open as his eyes widened, and he pointed toward her limp and bloodied body.

"Dad, that's—!"

"I know. I never thought she'd show up here, though. Come on, Travis. We've got to get her and her friend some serious help before we lose them."

With that, the man and his son started off down the back alleys and side streets of Nar Shaddaa, where they eventually disappeared around a dark corner and onto a long, narrow street that led to the doorway of a small apartment.


	13. Hawk Meets Her Rescuers

**Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Thirteen - Hawk Meets Her Rescuers**

When Hawk's eyes finally fluttered open a long while later, she found herself lying in a soft, warm bed in a dimly lit room. A heavy quilt was pulled up almost to her chin, and a cool cloth was spread across her forehead. She turned her head slightly to try to get a better look at her surroundings, and she found a kind-faced woman with wavy brown hair and caring blue-gray eyes leaning over her. Hawk tried to quickly sit up, but the woman gently pushed her back against the mound of pillows.

"Just take it easy, Hawk," she said. "You were hurt pretty badly. You've been unconscious for just three days, so just relax and let the kolto injections I gave you do their job."

Hawk tried to raise an eyebrow questioningly, but she found that she was somewhat too weak to even manage that. Closing her eyes briefly, she exhaled heavily before turning to look at the woman again.

"How did you know my name?" she asked. "And while we're at it, who are you, where am I, and how did I get here?"

"I'm Metarie, you're in my home, and my husband and son found you and your friend badly wounded and brought you back with them."

"Metarie . . . ?" Hawk asked. The name sounded familiar. She studied the woman's face for a moment before recognizing it. "Wait a minute. You're—!"

Metarie silenced her with a gentle wave of her hand. Hawk stared at her, not particularly believing her eyes.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Hawk," Metarie said softly.

"I can say the same thing about you. What are you even doing here? Last I recall, we came to visit you on _Telos_!"

"We only moved here last year," Metarie explained. "My husband had something he wanted to take care of, and—"

"I'm really sorry for interrupting," Hawk said, "but I have to ask. Where's Jardin?"

"He's in the next room," came the reply. "Don't worry; he's going to recover. As are you, actually. Those were some pretty serious stab wounds you received, but you're going to be fine. I just don't want either of you overdoing it for a while."

Hawk nodded as she settled into the pleasantly comfortable bed. A few moments later, the man who had rescued her and Jardin from certain death walked into the room, rolling the sleeves of his baby blue shirt up around his elbows. He seemed to be in his mid-forties, with soft brown hair styled similarly to Jardin's. Approaching the foot of the bed, he stopped and set his hands on his hips. He grinned at Hawk, who promptly grinned back. She noticed that he had warm brown eyes that sparkled merrily, and she kept grinning at him, for she recognized him as well.

"How's she doing, Met?" he asked.

"She'll be just fine," Metarie replied, smiling motherly at Hawk. "Hawk, you remember Atton, don't you? If he hadn't been where he was, you might not be here right now."

"Yeah, it's just like me, always being the hero," Atton smirked.

Hawk laughed and nodded in response to Metarie's question.

"Of course I remember. A girl doesn't easily forget one of her favorite people. You know, Atton, all this is really _your_ fault."

"_My_ fault? Not like I should be surprised, but just how am I to blame for this one?"

"Well, if you hadn't given me your old pazaak deck, I never would have learned to play, and I never would have been in that cantina playing, and I never would have gotten bumped into by that bounty hunter, and _he_ never would have gone to get his boss, and I never would have gotten stabbed." She flashed a smile. "Satisfied?"

Atton rolled his eyes crossing his arms.

"It always comes back to that stupid game," he muttered. "Always, without fail, it comes back to that!"

Metarie laughed lightly as she leaned across the bed to gently take Hawk's hand in her own. Her eyes searched Hawk's for a moment.

"How did you end up here, Hawk?" she asked concernedly. "While we're glad to see you for the first time in three years, the circumstances aren't the best. Care to explain?"

Hawk sighed. She could see there was no way around telling the truth. Ever since she was a very little girl, she'd known that Metarie and Atton were once Jedi, and from her experience with Jedi, she knew that most of them could sniff out a lie from a thousand parsecs away.

"I ran away from home," she said simply. "I found out some things that Mom and Dad had been hiding from me, and it hurt so much that I just had to get away. I basically had no money, so I thought I'd come here and scrape up a few credits before moving on."

She reached over and grabbed Metarie's hand, her clear blue eyes imploring.

"Please don't call Mom and Dad and rat me out!" she begged. "I'm not ready to go back. I'm not ready to turn myself over to what they want me to do."

"Which is . . . ?" Metarie questioned.

Hawk sighed again, and her gaze went to the foot of the bed.

"They want me to be a Jedi . . . Mom especially. They say I've got the Force, that I can be trained to use it. But to be honest, I don't_ want_ to know how."

"Sounds a bit familiar," Atton mumbled, but Metarie quickly waved her hand and silenced him as Hawk continued with her explanation.

"I don't _want_ to be thrown into the Order," she sighed. "I'd rather be doing something where I can be around ships." She looked over at Metarie, and her eyes sparkled somewhat as a dreamy expression crossed her face. "Y'know what I'd _really_ like to do? I'd like to go into the fleet and take over for Dad whenever he gets ready to retire. Just think: Admiral Hawk Onasi. How's that sound?"

"It sounds beautiful," Metarie murmured.

"But I can't do that if you guys tell them where I am!" Hawk continued earnestly. "Please, you've _got_ to give me a chance to deal with what's going on inside me right now. _Please?_"

There was silence in the room as Hawk looked back and forth between Atton and Metarie. They exchanged a hesitant glance that betrayed their uncertainty about keeping Hawk's location a secret when they both knew her parents would be worried sick. Atton shuffled his foot on the carpet, trying to divert Hawk's piercing gaze. After a minute, he looked up, his decision made.

"All right," he said finally. "All right, we won't tell them. _For now._ But if the situation gets desperate, we'll have to tell them. Got it?"

"Got it," Hawk smiled, relief evident on her young face. She looked to Metarie. "Can I get out of bed now? I think those injections did their job. I'd like to go see Jardin, if it's okay."

Metarie nodded her consent, and Hawk pushed the blankets back before crawling out of bed. She grabbed her jacket from the back of a nearby chair as she left the room and disappeared around a corner. After she was gone, Metarie looked up into her husband's eyes.

"Do you think we did the right thing?" she asked.

"Of course not," Atton sighed, "but I couldn't see anything else _to_ do."

He smiled faintly, trying to lighten the mood.

"You've gotta admit, though: Admiral Hawk Onasi _does_ sound pretty cool."


	14. Leaving Nar Shaddaa

**Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Fourteen - Leaving Nar Shaddaa**

The next morning, Hawk and Jardin were back on their feet and, understandably, raring to go. The memory of their run-in with those bounty hunters was still fresh in their minds, and they had no intention of sticking around long enough to have a repeat event. Besides this, Hawk was anxious to leave Nar Shaddaa before the Republic tracked her down, so she spent most of the morning prepping the _Ebon Hawk_ for takeoff. When she wasn't buried up under the control panel tinkering with the wires and cables, she was racing around the Rands' apartment trying to convince Jardin that they needed to go in five minutes or else. Well, five minutes always ended up turning into a couple of hours, for Metarie mothered the teenagers nearly to death. Her first act as surrogate mom was to see that Jardin had a proper bath, which, of course, he resented. But after he gave in and had one, he honestly seemed much happier with himself. Their already slow start got even slower when Metarie insisted upon personally restocking the _Ebon Hawk_'s supply bins with sandwiches and whatnot from her own pantry. Hawk tried to dissuade her from doing this, claiming an ability to be able to take care of herself and Jardin, but Metarie waved her off with a cheerful "Nonsense! I enjoy this."

By the time everything was ready and Hawk and Jardin were set to leave, Hawk found herself suddenly unnerved by the prospect of heading out into the galaxy on her own. She felt comfortable among her friends, but she knew that as soon as she walked out the door, it would be just her and Jardin. That thought scared her. She didn't really know what was out there, and she wasn't too keen on having every bounty hunter in the galaxy on her tail in revenge for what had happened. She was on the verge of chickening out on the whole venture when the idea came to her that she could invite Metarie, Atton, and Travis along for the ride. So excited was she with this that she promptly raced to the room Jardin had been staying in. She found him packing up his few belongings into an old gray knapsack. As she entered the room, he turned to greet her, and she noticed that for the first time, he wasn't wearing his green jacket.

"Where's your jacket?" she asked, straining to peel her eyes away from the form-fitting black tank top he wore.

"Metarie's got it," Jardin replied. "She's patching the hole."

"Oh. Will it be done by the time we're ready to leave?" Hawk had to force herself to look at his face because even for a sixteen-year-old, he had a rather muscular chest. She couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had some "will work for food and board" in his past.

"Yeah, I think so. Where will we be going?"

"I was thinking maybe Tatooine. The spaceport of Mos Eisley seems like a pretty good place to me. It's fairly backwater, so I doubt any of Vinn's buddies will be looking for us there."

"Sounds good," Jardin nodded. "I'm not a big fan of getting shot again. You know, I took that bullet for you!"

"Yeah, I know," Hawk said softly, walking across the room to his side. She gazed up into his clear green eyes. "Thanks."

"Ahh, no problem," Jardin grinned. "Thanks to those kolto shots, you can't really even tell I took a hit in the first place! I guess my getting shot didn't do you any good, though. You still ended up getting stabbed. Which reminds me . . . How's your side?"

"It's fine," Hawk replied, though she absently rubbed it. "Muscles're a little tight, but I'll be okay. Listen, I had a question I wanted to ask you."

"I'm listening."

"What if we were to invite Metarie and Atton along with us? There's more than enough room in the _Ebon Hawk_, and I'd feel a lot better traveling this galaxy if we had a pair of Force users on our side."

"Is that Travis guy gonna have to come along?" Jardin questioned suspiciously, one eyebrow arched.

"Well, of course. He _is_ their son, after all . . . I highly doubt they'd just leave him here while they go of with us for a few adventures." She noticed his odd expression. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"No. No problem," Jardin answered, forcing a grin that faded when he realized that Hawk wasn't buying it. "All right, fine. I don't like the guy."

"Why not? I think Metarie raised him nicely."

"Yeah, well, he's still seventeen. Seventeen-year-olds aren't famous for thinking nice thoughts about pretty girls like you. I mean, it's like they see a female with a beautiful face, and suddenly their brains start revolving around 'snagging' her, if you know what I mean."

"I don't think Travis is like that," Hawk disagreed. "But you think I'm pretty?"

Jardin shrugged and smiled a little half-smile that Hawk found to be incredibly cute.

"Well, uh, not really. I was just saying . . ."

Hawk laughed in spite of herself and gently rested her hand on Jardin's suntanned shoulder. She smiled sweetly at him, unwittingly flirting with the lad. Her grin lasted only a moment before she left the room and went to invite the others along for the journey. That in itself was an incredibly easy task, for she had no sooner gotten the words out than Metarie and Atton accepted heartily. Within the hour, the _Ebon Hawk_ was loaded and readied for takeoff, and as soon as all were aboard, it left Nar Shaddaa's grimy surface for good.


	15. One Hour

**Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Fifteen - One Hour**

All was silent within Carth's office on the top floor of the Republic Embassy. Not a sound existed except for the low murmur of the intercom system on standby. Carth sat solemnly at his desk, his head in his hands. An enormous mug of caffa sat nearby, and every once in a while, he took a tiny sip from it. It had been piping hot when he had first poured it, but now it was quite cold. Somehow, though, he failed to care about the temperature of his beverage. The only thing on his mind was Hawk's disappearance. First and foremost, he felt so incredibly helpless, but then he felt horribly stupid. He kept revisiting the scene in the dining room through his mind's eye. He kept seeing things in Hawk's face and eyes that should have told him to watch her more closely. He kept wondering what would have happened had he gone to her room and held her throughout the night. There was always the nagging thought of "What if I'd done more?" Needless to say, he blamed himself quite thoroughly, and despite hating that part of himself that made him always blame himself for whatever tragedies occurred, he knew he was at fault. He blamed himself because he had failed to do more for his little girl.

There was a memory tucked away in the depths of his mind from when Hawk was five years old. A tear slipped down Carth's cheek as he thought about how bright-eyed she'd been every night when he came home from the office. No matter how tiring the day had been, it had always been refreshing to find her waiting for him. She'd always run to the door as soon as she heard the key click in the lock, squealing, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Then he thought of how he'd scoop her up, nuzzle his face against hers, and blow a raspberry on her neck that always made her giggle with glee. If one were to look up "Daddy's Little Girl" in the dictionary, "Hawk Onasi" would undoubtedly be written there beside it. She'd always been like that. It was her nature.

Carth brushed a hand through his hair, trying to stifle a mournful sigh. His heart ached within him whenever he thought about Hawk being out there in that monster of a galaxy all by herself. Well, she wasn't entirely alone. The morning they'd found her missing, they'd found the droids gone as well. But even having the droids with her might not be enough. He kept thinking of a moment a few nights prior when Revan had awakened in a cold sweat, clutching her side. She'd said it was Hawk, that the girl was injured somehow. Just thinking of it again gave Carth a stomachache as a dark possibility loomed over his head. What if she was . . .

"No!" he cried, leaping from his desk and slamming his fists down against it, knocking his mug of caffa over in the process. "She's not dead! She's _not_!"

He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling, and he shook his fist at the sky as he screamed to the heavens, his voice hoarse.

"I won't lose my baby girl! Y'hear me, Force? I won't lose her!"

At that moment, there came a soft knock at the door. Carth gave a start as he hastily took his seat behind his desk.

"Come in," he said with a quick clear of his throat.

A young soldier, obviously his aide from the way he was dressed, poked his head around the door.

"Admiral, sir," he said. "The comm boys sent a message for you. They said to tell you that they've located the _Ebon Hawk_."

Carth rose from his seat again, trembling visibly. He pressed his palms into the desk top to steady himself.

"Where?" he asked, his voice shaking anxiously.

"Nar Shaddaa, sir."

His stomach twisted as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. He took a few seconds to make an attempt at regaining his composure before stepping around his desk and striding across the room.

"Get the _Sojourn_ ready to go," he instructed. "I want it ready to fly in an hour. I'm going home to change and get Revan, and then we'll set course for Nar Shaddaa."

He gave his fist a light shake near the ensign's face, though it was not threatening by nature. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and his worry was immensely evident. His aide just tried to smile reassuringly.

"Don't let me be too late," Carth said, nearly whispering.

"Yes, sir."

With that, he brushed past his aide as he rushed from the Embassy and headed for home.

·

An hour barely went by before Carth and Revan arrived at the docking bays. Their strides almost matched perfectly as they hurried toward the _Sojourn_'s dock. Both were clad in comfortable clothes adequate for travel: Carth in an old flight jacket he'd pulled from the back of his closet, and Revan in her everyday attire with a deep brown cloak thrown about her shoulders. No one spoke to them as they twisted their way through the halls leading to the docking bays, though a soldier occasionally stopped and snapped to attention as his admiral passed. The pair didn't even really speak to one another, because conversations took time they may not have had to spare. It seemed like an eternity passed before the _Sojourn_ finally came into view, and their steps quickened as they rushed to the boarding ramp. No sooner than they were aboard, the Republic capital ship disengaged its magnetic moorings and drifted from the confines of the docking bays. Nar Shaddaa's coordinates were punched into the incredibly powerful navicomputer, and the ship shot away toward the Smuggler's Moon.

·

A few hours later, Carth was standing on the bridge of the vessel with his hands clasped behind his back. He had been this way for the entirety of the journey, and some of his underlings were beginning to worry about him. Revan stood nearby, watching him pace in anxiety. She sighed heavily as she quietly observed him. She said nothing, merely allowing her eyes to track his movements as he tried to burn off some of his nervous energy. Everything was silent except for the beeping of the instruments as the crew sat hard at work. They all knew how important finding Hawk was. If any man onboard had any doubts as to the definition of "heads will roll," they knew that if Hawk were not found, that phrase would be demonstrated quite expeditiously.

Revan watched her husband for a few more moments before quietly approaching him and placing her hand on his shoulder. He stopped his worried pacing and turned to her, and as he did, she reached up to brush her fingers through his hair.

"She'll be okay," she whispered.

Carth closed his eyes as she laid her head tenderly on his chest. More than anything, he wanted to believe the words she'd just spoken, but the way she had awakened a few nights prior, sobbing with pain that wasn't hers, still left him startled. Yet he tried to have hope. He held Revan for a long while, and a few moments later, a young lieutenant approached them.

"Admiral, sir," he said solemnly. "We're coming into Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere."

"Is there any sign of the _Ebon Hawk_, Lieutenant?" Carth asked.

The lieutenant sighed and shuffled his feet around on the floor panels of the capital ship for a minute or two before looking up into Carth's eyes.

"No, sir," he replied in a whisper. "We do have one lead, though. We've received a transmission of the arrivals and departures on the planet, and the _Ebon Hawk_ left Nar Shaddaa approximately one hour ago."

Carth reeled both inwardly and outwardly, and he gripped Revan's shoulder for support lest he collapse to the floor. _One hour!_ He had been so very close to getting Hawk back. At that moment, he felt like breaking down and just sobbing, but he tried to maintain a calm expression.

"If you have a trajectory, Lieutenant," he said, "follow it. I won't lose Hawk. Just keep searching."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant answered with a slow salute as Carth and Revan turned and quietly exited the bridge.


	16. Hawk Versus Travis

**Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Sixteen - Hawk Versus Travis**

Hawk learned the hard way that the _Ebon Hawk_ wasn't an exceptionally large ship. At times, it seemed as though there wasn't enough room for everyone even though an additional three people on board didn't _seem_ like a lot. Even with only adding Atton, Metarie, and Travis to the group, the ship seemed all too tiny. Hawk had traded in her dormitory for a cot spread out on the floor of the comm room up by the cockpit. She liked to claim that she preferred it in there because she could hear the sounds of the engines through the floor panels, but that wasn't true. Well, the part about hearing the sounds of the engines was, but she didn't mind that. In fact, the low rumble gave her a sense of calm. But the real reason she'd moved to the comm room was because she'd given her dorm to Atton and Metarie. Jardin often joked that she hadn't willingly given up her dorm—she'd been _pushed_ out. But to be perfectly honest, a cot on the floor of the comm room was more comfortable than the alternative of sleeping while sitting straight up in the pilot's chair in the cockpit, so Hawk was satisfied.

Then there was the problem of the 'fresher. It seemed as though there was always someone occupying it, and Hawk found that it was usually Travis. The little group was only two days into their journey, and already Hawk found herself wishing that there were two 'freshers on the ship. She found herself wishing for this luxury one morning as she leaned against the wall of the corridor outside the 'fresher, waiting for a chance to get inside.

"Travis, come _on_!" she groaned. "You've been in there for two hours already!"

"I'll be out in a minute," came the reply.

"You said that thirty minutes ago," she sighed. "What are you even _doing_ in there? There are some of us who can't hold it forever, you know!"

There was a pause before Travis spoke.

"Who's even out there?"

Hawk sighed, exasperated.

"_Me!_ You know, Hawk? As in, 'the girl who invited you to come along in the first place and _not_ just so you could hog the 'fresher all morning'?"

That seemed to do it. There was the sound of running water, obviously from the sink, and then the door slid open as Travis stepped out. He ran his fingers through his damp brown hair (for he'd washed it during his two-hour stint inside) before grinning at Hawk.

"Morning," he said cheerfully. "Sorry I took so long."

Hawk rolled her eyes.

"You've said that every morning for the past three days," she replied. "I'm beginning to think we need to get a 'fresher installed in each dorm so this one will get freed up more often."

"Well, I _am_ sorry."

"Yeah, I know you are," Hawk smiled. For probably the first time, she realized just how much the seventeen-year-old resembled his father, and part of her found this trait exceptionally attractive. She also noticed that he'd failed to button his shirt during his morning routine, and she wondered if that was intentional. "You left your shirt open."

It must not have been intentional, for Travis jumped slightly before hastily fastening the buttons. Muttering an embarrassed apology, he hurried off down the hall toward the dorm he and Jardin shared. Hawk couldn't help but laugh as she stepped into the 'fresher and closed the door.

·

A couple of minutes later when she emerged, she headed right to the cockpit to check on things. She wanted to know how far they were from Tatooine, since she was anxious to get to the planet and explore. Though she knew Tatooine was a barren wasteland filled with nothing but sand, sand, and more sand, she hoped to find a decent junk dealer that could sell her some upgrade parts for the various systems of the _Ebon Hawk_.

As she approached the cockpit, she found that her pilot's chair was occupied by someone other than herself. Immediately, she felt a sense of protectiveness, as if the ship was under assault by a stranger. But as she moved closer to the cockpit, she found Travis sitting there with his hands on the controls.

"What in space are you doing?" she asked, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.

Travis turned slightly and threw her a quick grin before turning back to the controls.

"Somebody's gotta be up here minding the store," he answered. "Besides, we're coming up on Tatooine in a few minutes, and I'm not too interested in crashing into the surface."

"But how do you know how to fly this baby?" Hawk questioned, walking up and stopping behind him.

"Dad gave me the basics."

"How does he—Oh, yeah. Something about piloting (and blah, blah), and Sith Lords (and blah, blah), and treacherous old grandmas with nothing better to do (and blah, blah), and saving the galaxy all while hunting for the nearest cantina and/or pazaak table. Am I right?"

"Something like that," Travis laughed. "I think yours is the best synopsis of what he calls 'his grand adventure' that _I've_ ever heard."

"You know," Hawk said suddenly. "I think you look a lot like your dad."

"Really?" Travis turned to look at her for a minute. "That's a new one. Everybody's always telling me how I look like Mom, though _she's_ always been the one to tell me I'm the spitting image of Dad. Speaking of shared looks and whatever, Mom's told me that you look like your mother. Is that really true? I've never noticed."

"Uh . . . yeah. I guess so."

There was an awkward pause as Hawk twiddled her thumbs and stared at the floor panels, trying to keep from crying at the thought of her parents. It was completely silent in the cockpit except for the quiet beeping of the instruments. After a while, Travis turned around and spoke.

"So, how come you're out here without your parents?" he asked. "Because, I mean, when you came to Telos to visit us three years back, they obviously came with you. What's going on?"

"I'm not sure if I ought to tell you."

"I know this is going to sound incredibly childish and stupid, but if you tell me, I'll promise not to tell anyone else."

Hawk laughed a little, feeling somewhat more at ease around Travis. It was strange, really, because she'd known him almost all her life, but only now was she getting used to him.

"Well, I guess I could tell you a little bit," she conceded. She took a seat in the co-pilot's chair. "The truth is, I'm trying to run away."

"You're doing a pretty darn good job at being inconspicuous," Travis said, sarcasm thick in his tone. "So far, you've managed to get Jardin shot and yourself stabbed by a bloodthirsty bounty hunter kingpin, and you yourself said yesterday that you thought the Republic was on your tail. Yeah, you're doing just _fine_ at running away without getting caught."

"This is nothing to crack jokes about, Travis!" Hawk exclaimed. "I found out some things about Mom's past that Mom and Dad had never told me, and I couldn't handle it, okay? I just needed a chance to think, and I couldn't do it at home!"

"Why is it that everybody I know ends up running away from their past?" Travis muttered with a quick roll of his eyes. "Dad ran, Mom ran, and now you're running from a past that's not even yours! Don't you think you ought to grow up and get over it? You really ought to get your parents to explain whatever it was you found out and just let it rest!"

"Hey, I don't need to hear a lecture from you, Travis!" Hawk cried. "You may be seventeen, but that doesn't make you my parent! You ain't got no right to go telling me what I should and shouldn't do! And yeah, I can 'get over it.' I can 'get over it' as easy as if it were a hangnail." She thrust her fist into his face, her blue eyes flashing. "And I'll 'get over it' just as soon as you can get it through your thick bantha skull what the heck I have to get over!"

With that, she turned on heel and stormed from the cockpit, swearing in Mandalorian under her breath. She didn't notice when she brushed past Jardin in the hall, and she certainly didn't notice when he cracked a sly grin of delight over her explosive argument.


	17. Mos Eisley

**Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Seventeen - Mos Eisley**

Tatooine's weather reports were much too modest. The two words "hot" and "dry" did little to describe the actual temperature. The little band hadn't been outside the _Ebon Hawk_ for five minutes before everyone scrambled to peel their jackets off. The heat nearly stifled them anyway, and it was evident that the locals found great entertainment in watching a few off-worlders struggle with the temperature. Upon passing through Mos Eisley's gates, Hawk accosted the first person she met and asked them how they were able to stay cool and comfortable in spite of such harsh atmospheric conditions while wearing what seemed to be heavy woolen garments. The local explained that it was a special type of fabric and pointed her toward a small nearby building that appeared to be some sort of supply depot. And so, as the first order of business, everyone purchased a new article of clothing they could wear while visiting the sandy spaceport.

Not long after being outfitted with a camel-colored thigh-length tunic, Hawk gave the suggestion that the group split up in order to more thoroughly explore the city. This suggestion was agreed to, and Hawk and Jardin wandered off to find a junk dealer while the others stayed behind to restock the ship. As the two teenagers strolled through the dusty streets, Jardin attempted to break the ice and strike up a conversation.

"So, uh, I heard you had a major argument with Travis," he said, tugging at the somewhat itchy collar of his Tatooine-made shirt.

"Yeah," Hawk replied dejectedly. "I blew up way too much, though."

"What'd he even say to get it started?"

"He asked how come I'm out here without my folks, and when I told him why, he told me I needed to grow up. So, I basically told him to go space himself."

Jardin almost laughed aloud, but he got himself in check before the guffaw came tumbling out. He failed, of course, and there was the odd sound of a choking snicker. Hawk cast a sideways glance at him before shaking her head and cracking a small smile. Clearing his throat, Jardin turned back to her.

"So how come you _are_ out here without your folks?"

Hawk sighed, not entirely willing to share the whole truth. She furrowed her eyebrows before opting for the simplest explanation.

"I was running."

"Really?!" Jardin exclaimed, but he suddenly got the idea that there was an obvious tone of surprise in his voice, so he quickly coughed. "Uh, I meant . . . _Really?_"

"Yeah. There was some stuff about my mom that I couldn't handle learning about, so I headed out. It was like I either didn't want to have it explained to me, or . . ."

". . . Like you didn't want to face the music."

Hawk glanced over at Jardin, her left eyebrow twitching slightly. The boy now seemed uncharacteristically subdued and quite depressed as they trudged along. His emerald eyes scanned the ground, but nothing else. Hawk studied him for a minute, wondering how he'd known how she'd felt.

"Exactly," she agreed quietly.

There were a few long moments of silence, broken only by the typical sounds of the spaceport and the crunching of sand beneath their sturdy leather boots. After a while, Hawk spoke again.

"So, you never really told me much about yourself . . ." she began.

"Maybe that's because there's nothing to tell."

"Come on, Jardin," she pleaded. "I don't want you to be a stranger. We could be friends if you'd open up just a little tiny bit. Up till now, you've been almost like a clam."

"A clam, huh?" Jardin teased, his eyes sparkling. "Well, then that must mean there's a pearl in me somewhere, right? Or is that an oyster . . . ?"

Hawk giggled, shaking her head and clasping her hand around his shoulder. He grinned at her, proud of his talent to evoke snickers from her.

"You're too much," she laughed. "No, seriously. Tell me a little about yourself."

"Like I said, there's not much to tell," Jardin shrugged. "I'm from Alderaan originally, but I haven't been there in . . . oh . . . three years or so. It might be four now. I dunno."

He sighed before continuing. Hawk patted his arm.

"My father was a very important noble on the queen's counsel, and my mother was the daughter of a famous painter, so you might say my family was pretty important. I was my mother's only child, though I often suspected that Father had other children by another woman. He wasn't the greatest guy to be around, but he was okay, I guess. He brought me presents all the time from the city, but he was at work almost all the time. I had an uncle that came around a lot, though, but I didn't like him too much. I didn't like him at all, really. I think he came over as often as he did to try to get Mom into trouble with him, the dirtbag. I also suspected him of trying to kill Father several times because Alderaan's got some—" He paused and turned to Hawk. "I've heard you speak Mandalorian lots of times. How do you say 'stupid'? Like as an adjective?"

"_Di'kutla_."

"Wow, that's got some kick to it. Anyway, Alderaan's got some _di'kutla_ law that says if a man dies, his brother gets to marry his wife. My uncle never was happy with Father for marrying Mom; he had wanted her for himself back when they were younger, y'know. I tell you, the guy was a scumbag."

He said no more, something that told Hawk something had happened of which he'd rather not speak, so she let the conversation slide. However, she did ask final additional question before leaving him alone.

"So, how'd you end up shuffling cards in that Nar Shaddaa dive?" she asked curiously.

"Got tired of Alderaan. Too boring there," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced at Hawk and saw that she was waiting for a longer explanation, and he sighed. "Well, that's not the entire story, but we don't have the time to go into _that_ discussion."

"We've got all the time in the galaxy, Jardin. It's not like anybody's chasing us."

"Oh, yeah? Remember, that Trandor Vinn guy could show up anywhere! Bounty hunter crime lords like him always have friends on every planet. All he has to do is contact one of them, and the next thing you know, I catch another bullet for you!"

"You won't be catching any more bullets for me, Jardin Elgon," Hawk said softly, her eyes locking with his. "You did more than you should have, anyway, especially considering that I was a stranger."

Jardin didn't reply to that. He just stared into her eyes for a few minutes. She blinked slowly at him, smiling faintly.

"You know, Hawk," he said in a tone a touch louder than a whisper, "you have incredibly beautiful eyes. I didn't know they were that blue. It's like . . . Heck, I don't know. Like they're sapphires or something."

Hawk's cheeks flushed into a soft pink as she looked away, trying to hide her embarrassed yet pleased grin. She stole a glance back at him before quickly diverting her gaze again.

"Thanks," she murmured.

Jardin smiled, and they walked along for another few moments before Hawk stopped dead in her tracks. She cocked her head slightly to one side, listening, as her eyes darted around the surroundings. Jardin watched her, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What's up?"

"I don't know," Hawk replied. "I thought I heard something."

She was about to continue walking when her back straightened suddenly.

"There it was again!"

"What is it, even?" Jardin asked.

Hawk turned and searched his eyes, and Jardin noticed that hers had turned from a deep, soulful blue into a dull gray that indicated her mounting anxiety.

"I think it was footsteps," she whispered. "I think we're being followed."


	18. Family Reunion

******Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Eighteen - Family Reunion**

Hawk's eyes hastily scanned every inch of her immediate surroundings, yet she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She was absolutely positive there was someone behind her and Jardin, however; she could feel a strangely familiar presence creeping up behind her. She kept listening, and Jardin kept watching, but neither one of them noticed when a cloaked individual sneaked up behind them. His steps were quiet, for he pressed his booted feet into the sand in such a way that smothered all noise. It was as though he was a professional at sneaking through sandy areas without being detected. Slowly, he crept up on Hawk, who stood as still as a statue with her shoulders squared back. He inched up behind her, stretching out his hands as his pale brown eyes studied her. He carefully wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and Hawk tried to scream in terror. Spinning around, she tried to kick the stranger in the stomach, but she suddenly gasped with delight upon recognizing him.

"Dustil!" she squealed, throwing herself at him. "Ooh, it's so _good_ to see you!"

"Good to see you, too, Hawk," Dustil replied as he hugged his half-sister. "What are you doing here?"

"Never mind that! What are _you_ doing here?!"

"I'm waiting for the next coreward shuttle," Dustil answered, nodding toward the docking bays. "I was just coming in to Coruscant to see you all, but since you're here, I might as well save a few credits and make my visit here! I guess Father's back at the _Ebon Hawk_, right?"

"Um . . ." Hawk replied, a bit sheepishly. "Actually, no, he's not. He's back home, for all I know. It's just me here."

Dustil stared at her as though he didn't quite believe her words. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down at Hawk with one eyebrow raised. At that moment, he looked startlingly like Carth.

"Wait a minute. Do you mean to tell me that you're out here on Tatooine all by yourself?"

"Not _all_ by myself, Dustil," she said with a faint sigh of exasperation. "I've got some friends with me. Speaking of which—" She turned to Jardin. "Dustil, this is my friend Jardin Elgon. Jardin, I'd like you to meet my brother, Dustil."

"Pleased to meet you," Jardin said as he extended his hand in a friendly handshake. In his voice, there was what seemed like relief that Dustil was a family relation and not an old flame of Hawk's.

"Pleasure's all mine," came the response as Dustil graciously accepted the gesture. He turned back to Hawk and crossed his arms. "I think you have a little explaining to do, Hawk, as to why you're out here without Father and . . . uh . . . your mother."

"Just say it, Dustil," she sighed. "I already know. _That's_ why I'm out here. I had to get away so I could think."

"Oh, I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah, but not here," Hawk replied, nodding toward Jardin. She wrapped her arms around Dustil's neck and squeezed him gently. "I was hoping to see you."

Dustil returned the affectionate embrace, enfolding Hawk in brotherly love. Though he did not often visit his family, he and Hawk were still quite close, a fact that made their father proud. When she was a baby, he had sometimes come to visit for the sole purpose of playing peek-a-boo with her and making her squeal with glee. As Hawk grew older, his visits became spaced farther apart, but he still maintained a close connection by calling Carth on weekends and asking to speak with his little sister as well. Occasionally, during his travels around the galaxy, he'd sent her small gifts from the various worlds he visited. Though he had been unable to attend her sixth birthday, he'd sent her a gorgeous little pearl necklace from Onderon. As he recalled, that gift had gotten him a squeal of delight and gratitude when he'd called that weekend. As he hugged her there in the Tatooine streets, he wondered if she still had the necklace. After a few moments, Dustil released Hawk and smiled at her. She smiled back, grabbing his hand.

"Come on," she said, leading him back toward the supply depot, "I want you to meet the others."

"But, Hawk, weren't we gonna find a junk dealer?" Jardin protested even though he followed willingly.

"Who cares about a stupid ol' junk dealer?" Hawk replied. "I found something better, anyway!"

She led Dustil and Jardin back to the supply depot, where she found that Atton and Metarie were still purchasing supplies and equipment. From the looks of things, Atton had found himself a pretty little blaster, for he stood by the counter caressing it lovingly. He looked up as Hawk entered the building and lightly elbowed Metarie in the arm. Metarie turned and smiled kindly before resuming her shopping.

"Hey, Hawk," Atton called, waving slightly. "Weren't you out hunting down a junk shop?"

"Yeah, but I found something—some_one_—way better! Atton, Metarie, I'd like you to meet my brother Dustil. Dustil, this is Atton and Metarie Rand. They're really good friends of Mom and Dad's . . . and mine, too!"

"Nice to meet you, Dustil," Atton said warmly, shaking the young man's hand. "Her parents talk about you often."

"Likewise," Dustil replied. "And I'm her half-brother, really."

"Oh, half, shmaf," Hawk sighed with a roll of her eyes. "Screw the technicalities."

She wandered off to the other side of the depot as a shiny new blaster scope caught her eye, and she kept her eyes locked onto it as she moved away, for she knew that Travis was watching her very closely. She felt quite guilty for her heated words earlier that morning, but she tried to swallow it and put it from her mind. Instead, she reached out and grabbed the scope, examining it carefully for a few minutes before turning back toward where Atton and Dustil stood talking by the main counter.

"Okay, who needs an Aratech Mark Six precision scope?" she called, waving it around as though she were an auctioneer from the back alleys of Coruscant's commerce sector.

"Ooh, I do!" Jardin replied as he rushed over to her, his hands straying for the new toy.

Hawk handed it to him as she returned to Dustil's side. She leaned her dark-haired head against his chest, and he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder. After a minute of quietly standing at his side, she looked up at him, stood up on the tips of her toes, and whispered something into his ear. Dustil turned and stared at her, one eyebrow arched, so she repeated her motions. She again whispered into his ear, and this time, he answered aloud.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked, and Hawk nodded.

"Of course I do, Dustil," she answered. "You're my brother. I'd really like to have you on board. Besides, I could really use somebody to talk to right now. Please?"

She made an adorable little pouty face that Dustil simply could not resist. After years of being away from his family, he'd thought he'd gotten over his inability to stand up to the persuasive powers of her pout. She batted her dark eyelashes at him slowly in a way that reminded him of an adorable iriaz calf he'd seen once while visiting Dantooine, and he crumpled.

"Okay, okay," he said with a half-laugh. "I'll come."

He expected her to jump into the air and kick her heels together with a cheerful cry of "Hurray!", but she didn't. Her expression turned somber as she forced a tiny smile.

"I'm glad," she said, nearly whispering, "because I have to talk to you right away. I really need to get it out of my system."

Dustil nodded as she took his hand and led him back toward the docking bays. As they left, she turned and left a few instructions for the rest of her friends.

"Finish up here," she said, "and get all these supplies loaded into the cargo hold."

She nodded toward Jardin, who was still closely examining the gleaming blaster scope she'd handed him.

"Don't forget his scope," she added. "And if you need me, I'll be in the cockpit . . ."

She paused, looking up into Dustil's eyes and sighing with pride and sisterly love.

". . . with my brother."

She gave another little grin as she and Dustil headed to the _Ebon Hawk_, and Hawk felt as though she could finally begin to cope, if only a little, with everything that was making her mind churn.


	19. Soul Searching

******Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Nineteen - Soul Searching**

A couple of hours later, Hawk and Dustil were still sitting in the cockpit of the _Ebon Hawk_, deep in quiet conversation. The rest of the crew had decided to take naps, so there were no sounds other than their low voices and the gentle whirring of the ship's life support systems. Dustil listened patiently as Hawk explained everything that had transpired over the past few days. He allowed her to take as much time as she needed to tell him of how she'd sparred with Canderous and smashed into the trunk that led to it all, how she'd found the mask and Revan's diary, and how the first thing she'd read brought her world crashing down around her. She told him of finding out about Larka for the first time and how she felt that incredible urge to get away. She paused after that, so Dustil took a moment to share his own thoughts.

"Is that why you ran away?" he asked.

"Yes," Hawk nodded. "It hurt too much. If it had just been 'Oh, guess what! Your mom used to be a Sith Lord,' when I was—oh, I dunno—_four_, I might have been able to handle it better. But finding out that I'm a girl whose twin died at birth was like rubbing salt in an open wound. The only thought I had was 'Why didn't they tell me?'" She looked at Dustil. "Why didn't they?"

"Maybe they thought you didn't really need to know," he suggested. "Or maybe they thought it wouldn't matter."

"Not matter? Of _course_ it matters! They could have left out that bit about Mom, but they should have told me about _Larka_!" Hawk protested. She sighed heavily, running a gloved hand through her jet-black locks. "Dustil, let me explain. Ever since the day before my sixth birthday, I've felt this . . . this _hole_ in my life. It always felt like something was missing. It was as though something that _should_ have been there had been violently ripped from me. It felt as though an actual living, breathing part of me had been cut away with a vibroblade. It hurt. It honestly, physically _hurt_, and I knew something was definitely wrong. I tried to fill the void by begging Mom for a puppy, thinking that would fix it, but she always said I couldn't have one. I know now that even a puppy wouldn't have completely helped. I remember complaining to her about this ache inside me on the day before my sixth birthday and telling her that it felt as if I was a jigsaw puzzle with one of the pieces missing, and I can remember complaining a lot about it afterwards. She'd always tell me that it was nothing, that there was nothing wrong with me, but now I clearly remember seeing this expression of 'She knows' on her face."

At this, Hawk's bottom lip began to tremble, and her bright blue eyes darkened as they filled with tears. The next moment, she climbed out of her seat and crawled into Dustil's arms in the co-pilot's chair as she began to cry. He gently cradled her as she wept into his homespun tunic, rubbing her back in the same circular motion that he'd observed Carth using to calm her. After a minute or two, Hawk's crying slowed down to almost nothing, and she looked up into her brother's face.

"Don't do that," she begged. "Please, don't."

"Why?"

"It . . . It reminds me too much of Dad," Hawk whispered. Her eyes began to fill with tears again. "I miss him too much!"

She tried not to cry again, but she failed, and her sobs came out as random sputterings. Dustil grabbed her shoulder encouragingly.

"Why don't you go home?" he suggested gently. "They've got to be worried sick about you. If I know Father, he's probably pacing up and down his office right now."

Hawk looked into his eyes, and she seemed slightly angry at his suggestion. Yet, at the same time, she looked so vulnerable and open to returning home that there was a conflict of emotions etched on her face.

"I can't go home!" she cried. "Not yet, anyway. I . . . I think I need more time."

"Well, time _would_ do you good." There was a pause as Dustil sat in thought for a moment or two. "Why don't you go to Dantooine in the meantime?"

"Dantooine?" Hawk asked, raising an eyebrow. "What's on that rock?"

"Well, for one thing . . . Larka's grave."

"Larka's grave . . . ?"

Dustil nodded, and Hawk chewed at her bottom lip for a minute before leaping out of his arms and racing to the main hold. When she arrived there, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled to the rest of her friends.

"Hey, everybody, up and at 'em!" she shouted. "C'mon, people, let's move it, move it, _move it_!"

A pair of hard thuds echoed from the port dorm, and Hawk tried to smother a snicker, for she knew that Jardin and Travis had just been bounced out of their bunks by her shout. A minute or two later, everyone came stumbling out of the dormitories, looking somewhat tired and extremely disgruntled by the fact that Hawk had just jerked them from nice, long naps.

"What _now_, Hawk?" Jardin asked with a sigh, brushing his left hand through his thick, sandy blond hair.

"We're going to Dantooine."

Her announcement garnered few reactions, for her friends simply stared at her as if she had suddenly lost her mind. Even Atton and Metarie seemed ready to get down on their hands and knees and poke around underneath all the bunks and various panels in an attempt to find her evidently missing marbles.

"Hawk," Metarie said, "are you _sure_ you want to go to Dantooine? I mean, it's such a sleepy little planet . . . You wanted some excitement, but Dantooine has none."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Atton muttered, but Metarie promptly elbowed him in the gut, evoking a wheeze from him.

"So, uh, explain to me why we're going to that rock," Jardin said, crossing his arms over his tee shirt. "Because _you_ told _me_ that the next planet we hit would have a chance to scrape up a few credits from a handful of loser card players, and so far, I haven't gotten one opportunity to warm up my deck."

"You'll get one," Hawk replied. "If none of you want to go with me, then you can stay here, and I'll come back when I'm finished on Dantooine. There's just something there that I need to do."

"Such as . . . ?" Jardin was still wary of her decision to travel to the grassy planet. "I don't get it."

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," Hawk answered.

"Darn right it is, if I'm gonna keep traveling with you!" Jardin snapped.

"Hawk, I think you owe us all an explanation," Travis added gently. "We _are_ traveling with you, after all, and I think we have the right to know where we're going and why."

"Right," Jardin prodded, "so, spill, Hawk."

Hawk sighed, feeling herself growing frustrated. She turned to Dustil, perhaps looking for him to step in and get the boys off her back, but he offered no assistance. For a minute, she wanted to reach over and slap him for that, but she remembered how nice he'd been to her in the cockpit only a short while before. She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to beat both Jardin and Travis into pulps. She slowly clenched and unclenched one fist for a few long moments before giving her reply.

"Okay," she said, her voice quiet. "We're going to Dantooine because my sister's grave is there." Her voice gradually rose in volume until she was nearly sobbing and screaming hysterically. "So, yeah, I'm a twin, and my sister died at birth, and I really need to see her grave to get at least one ounce of closure, and I'm pretty ticked off right now because today's my birthday, and I'm not at home with people who care!"

She turned quickly on heel and strode to the familiar, comforting confines of the cockpit as the tears came. Her sudden departure left everyone standing around and exchanging odd glances. Jardin shuffled his right foot on the floor panels, feeling quite guilty for jumping down her throat as he had. He shot a glance at Travis; the other boy seemed to be feeling precisely the same way he was. Travis caught Jardin's eye, and they both turned and looked at Dustil. Dustil shook his head slightly.

"She needs time," he said softly.

"Did you know it was her birthday?" Jardin asked.

"Of course I did. I _am_ her brother, after all. That's why I was going to Coruscant."

"How old is she today?" Travis questioned.

"She's fifteen."

The boys gasped inwardly, struggling to understand how someone so young could have such a burden on her shoulders. They turned to press him with more questions, but Dustil had already left for another part of the ship, and Atton and Metarie had sneaked away to see if HK-47 and T3-M4 needed any maintenance. The boys were left alone, and Jardin leaned back against a nearby wall, sighing.

"Well, how do you like that?" he said. "We go blowing up at her and then turn right around and find out that it's her birthday."

"Yeah," Travis agreed dejectedly. "We ought to do something for her. The supply depot here _has_ to have some sort of gift . . . We could put our money together and buy her something nice."

"What's your definition of 'nice'?" Jardin challenged. "Do you even have _any_ idea what fifteen-year-old girls like?"

"No," Travis admitted, somewhat sheepishly, "but Mom probably does. We'll have to ask her."

As the boys stood discussing what to purchase Hawk for her birthday, neither one of them noticed as T3-M4 rolled past from the cargo hold, clutching a tiny package between the metallic "fingers" of his robotic arm attachment. The faithful little droid hastened up the ramp to the cockpit, where he discovered Hawk slumped over the controls, crying. As quietly as a droid is able, he rolled up beside her and let out a long, low "dwoooo." Hawk turned, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She smiled faintly when she saw him.

"Hi, T3," she said softly. "What's up?"

T3 beeped as he pressed the tiny, colorful package into her hands. Hawk stared at him curiously, turning the package over and eyeing it oddly.

"You say you got this out of a secret compartment in the cargo hold?" she asked, and T3 whistled an acknowledgment. "What's in it?"

T3 let out a series of beeps and blips that translated to "I have no idea. Open it and find out!" Hawk nodded as she turned her attention to the little package. It was wrapped in shimmering gold paper and tied with a satin royal blue ribbon. There was a tag attached to it, and Hawk tugged it free of the paper to read it. There, written in very familiar handwriting, were the words "To Hawk, from Dad. Happy birthday." Hawk gasped with surprise, and she covered her mouth with both hands before sliding the ribbon from the package. T3 rocked back and forth with anticipation as she tore away the shiny gold wrapping paper to reveal a burgundy jeweler's box. With trembling hands, Hawk lifted the lid from the little box, and lying there on the black velvet lining was the most beautiful necklace she'd ever laid eyes on. With a quiet cry of delight, she lifted the necklace from the box's interior. It was a string of beads, most made from natural stones such as turquoise, strung on a chain of silver. In the center, dangling from a small ring, was a bird carved from soapstone. After closer examination, she discerned that it was a hawk with outspread wings, and Hawk nearly cried at the sight. She actually began to cry as she glanced back down to the little box and lifted out a folded piece of paper. She opened it to find a note.

"_My precious baby girl—_

_If you're reading this, then you've probably been poking around in the _Ebon Hawk_ again. I guess I picked a bad place to hide your birthday present. So, let me go ahead and wish you the happiest of happy birthdays. It's not every day that a girl like you turns fifteen. I just want you to know that I'm very proud of you, and that I love you with all my heart. I know I wrote "My precious baby girl" up there, but you're not a baby anymore. Every day I see you, I'm reminded of how blessed I am to have you. You grow more beautiful with each day, and I'm grateful that you have a heart and spirit to match._

_I found the necklace years ago on Telos. The bird is carved from soapstone that was mined from the beaches, and though I had originally purchased it for your mother, I never gave it to her. So, I'm giving it to you now because the hawk in flight reminds me so much of you, since you have such a free spirit. I guess that, in more than one way, you remind me of myself. (And yes, you did inherit my bangs. Congratulations!) Hawk, I am so grateful that you're my daughter, and I just want you to know that whatever you do, I'll be by your side. I wasn't there for Dustil when he was your age, but I'll always be here for you._

_I love you,_

_Dad."_

Hawk tried to stifle a sob as she folded the letter and tucked it into the inside pocket of her jacket, which lay nearby. Eventually, however, she just gave full vent to her emotions and wept as she clasped the necklace around her neck. T3 whistled concernedly at her, and she tried to smile.

"No, T3, I'm okay," she said.

Biting her lip, she leaned back in the pilot's chair and crossed her arms. The gift of the necklace had brought her a bit of peace, and she wondered for a moment if T3 had been aware of its presence in the cargo hold. She wondered if he'd known it was there and brought it out to brighten the most depressing birthday on her record. She couldn't help but grin as she reached over and patted him lovingly on the head. He gave a long whistle of contentment, and Hawk glanced out the cockpit window. Her smile faded as she gazed up at the cloudless blue sky and to the emptiness of space beyond.

"_I miss you, Daddy,"_ she thought. _"I miss you and Mom both, and I think I'm almost ready to come home."_


	20. Young Love

******Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty - Young Love**

A few hours later, just after sunset, Hawk poked her head out of the cockpit and stole a quick glance into the main hold. She saw no one, and she bit her bottom lip as she wondered if her rant had driven her friends away from her. For the first time since she left home, she felt immensely lonely in the ship. The necklace lying against her chest felt terribly heavy, and she sighed before slipping through the _Ebon Hawk_'s hallways toward the galley to grab a bite to eat. She'd forgotten that she'd gone without food for a long while until her stomach quite loudly reminded her.

As she walked into the galley, she found Jardin sitting there with a cheese sandwich in his hands. She smiled faintly, and he returned her smile, nodding toward a nearby large platter.

"There's more if you want one," he said.

Hawk nodded with gratitude as she picked up a sandwich and took a seat across the table from him. She nibbled at the bread for a few moments before looking up and gazing into his face.

"I'm sorry I blew up at you," she said softly.

"Ahh, it's okay," Jardin smiled. "I know how you feel, I guess."

"Really?"

"Yeah . . . But, uh, happy birthday, Hawk."

"Thanks," Hawk grinned, feeling somewhat more cheerful. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

A few silent minutes passed as Hawk and Jardin quietly ate their sandwiches. Finally, Jardin finished his and looked up at Hawk. He watched her for a moment or two before deciding to speak

"So, uh . . ." he began, somewhat unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry about your sister. That's gotta be really rough for you."

"Yeah, I guess is," Hawk conceded. "I mean, since I was six, I've felt as though something was missing out of my life, and just recently I've learned that it was _her_. My sister's always been the one missing. I miss her so much, and I guess that's why I'd like to go to Dantooine."

"You're handling this pretty well, considering," Jardin said quietly, reaching over and gently squeezing her hand.

Hawk blushed in spite of herself, for she noticed with surprise that Jardin's hands were incredibly soft and smooth. They were comfortingly warm, and his grip was a sure one, as if he somehow knew that everything would turn out all right in the end. She gave a tiny, sweet smile.

"I guess talking to Dustil helped me straighten a few things out," she replied.

More silence smothered the galley. Hawk slowly pulled her hand out of Jardin's and returned it to a resting position on the tabletop in front of her, and both teenagers sat twiddling their thumbs and staring at the floor for a while. Hawk sighed, kicking her feet together as she often did during moments of boredom, before looking at Jardin again.

"So, uh, where's everybody else?" she asked, glancing out the galley and into the ship's interior.

"I think Travis is asleep," Jardin answered. "Dustil's off reading, I think, and . . . uhhh . . . I think Atton and Metarie are foolin' around in the dorms."

Hawk shuddered, lifting her hand as a command for him to spare her all the details. She shook her head and snapped her eyes shut, forcing out all those unpleasant mental images.

"Oh, gross. I'm sorry I asked."

Jardin just laughed and shook his head with amusement at Hawk's oddly expressioned and somewhat green face. He rose from his seat across the table from her and sat down at her side, gently taking her hand back in his.

"I guess you've gotta expect that when you invite married people onboard," he murmured as he pierced Hawk's heart with his soulful green eyes.

He stroked the back of her hand, and Hawk found herself practically paralyzed. She couldn't speak, and she could barely breathe. All she could do was sit there and allow him to run his soft fingers across the black leather of her glove. Jardin studied her hand for a moment before attempting to slowly slide the glove from her hand. Hawk hastily pulled her hand away, refastening the closure. Jardin lifted an eyebrow, not saying a word.

"Please, don't do that," she whispered, her voice faintly hoarse with nervousness.

"Any reason why?"

"It's just . . . I . . . My hands are dirty."

"So?" Jardin slid somewhat closer to her, and Hawk tried to back away but found that she had nowhere to go. "My hands are dirty, too. What are you afraid of?"

"_Afraid?_ Me, afraid? Never. But, uh . . ."

"I think you like me," Jardin smirked. "You like me because I'm a _scoundrel_."

"Jar, you couldn't be a scoundrel even if you were related to _Atton_," Hawk returned. "But for the record, I _happen_ to like _nice_ boys."

"I'm a nice boy."

"No, you're not . . ." Her voice trailed off, for she could no longer speak.

She found herself incredibly close to Jardin as he leaned near to her. He watched her for a few excruciatingly long seconds, his eyes calmly fixated on hers. For the first time, Hawk noticed how attractively his hair tumbled down over his right eye, and the thought crossed her mind that she would love to brush her hand through it just to see if it was as soft as it seemed. She stopped herself from doing this, though, and tried to remind herself that she was only fifteen. She failed at this, however, for Jardin gently slid his hand up her arm and shoulder until he cradled her chin in his fingertips. Hawk again found herself unable to take a breath as he leaned even closer to her. She was sure that her heart stopped beating as he tenderly pressed his lips to hers in a simple little kiss that nearly brought the entire ship down around her ears. It was nothing spectacular, nothing like the passionate displays on soap operas, but it was enough to make Hawk forget everything she ever knew about the respiration process. It was short, as well, lasting only two or three fleeting seconds, but when it ended and Jardin pulled away, Hawk was left speechless. Her mind was completely blank as Jardin smiled at her and turned to leave the galley, grabbing another sandwich on his way out.

"Happy birthday," he said softly.

As soon as he was gone, Hawk drew a deep, shuddering breath as she sat back heavily against her chair. She stared at the doorway, barely moving. She couldn't believe what had just happened. It was almost as though she was dreaming. Thinking this was the case, she pinched the back of her hand quite hard, but this did nothing more than give her a dark bruise. Besides, she knew that it _had_ actually happened, because she could still feel the kiss. Her mouth dropped open, but she covered it with both hands in a little bit of excitement and glee and a whole lot of surprise.

"Oh, my Force."


	21. Rumble At the Cantina

******Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-One - Rumble at the Cantina**

Later that night, Hawk rolled out of bed, suffering from a bad case of insomnia. To say that the day had left her head spinning was a severe understatement. Meeting Dustil, finding out about Larka's grave, receiving her first kiss . . . It simply overwhelmed her. Slipping silently from her cot in the comm room, she headed for the cockpit as she normally did when she couldn't sleep. The quiet beeping of the instruments and the gentle purring of the life support systems gave her a sense of calm, and she couldn't help but smile. For a moment, she just leaned back in the pilot's chair and closed her eyes, listening to the _Ebon Hawk_'s symphony. From where she sat, she could clearly hear the low rumble of the engines, which were running at minimum power in order to conserve noise and exhaust. Ever since she was a very small girl, she'd found great comfort in curling up in the ship, and on several occasions, she'd stayed so long that she'd fallen asleep and her father had to come find her and carry her up to bed. Another faint smile played across her young face as she thought about it, but after a moment, the reminiscing ended as she realized she had suddenly become quite thirsty. What made it worse was the just as sudden craving for a nice, big glass of ice-cold ginger ale that had befallen her. Quickly, she left the cockpit and returned to the comm room to retrieve her jacket. She tugged it on, quickly glanced out into the main hold to be sure that no one was awake, then crept through the _Hawk_'s corridors to the loading ramp. She stole a hasty look behind her to assure that HK-47—or anyone else, for that matter—was nowhere nearby or following her before she let down the ramp and sneaked out of the ship.

The night air there in Mos Eisley was cool and breezy—a stark contrast to the searing heat of the day. Hawk zipped her jacket up around her neck and leaned back against the ship for a moment just to enjoy the gentle wind that ruffled her hair. She reached back and untied the ponytail in her hair so the breeze could pass unhindered through her raven locks, and she just grinned at the coolness. After a moment, she shoved her hands into her pockets and started off down the main thoroughfare toward the cantina at the end of the street. It didn't take long for her to travel the distance between the _Hawk_ and the cantina, so she soon stepped through the doorway and into the nearly empty building. The bartender shot her somewhat of a strange look as she took a seat at the bar.

"Ginger ale, please," she said, smiling pleasantly.

She received another odd look from the bartender. Nevertheless, he turned, poured her ginger ale, and pushed it across the bar to her. Hawk took a quick sniff at it to make sure the bartender hadn't tried to pass some _other_ sort of ale off on her (for Atton had informed her once before that bartenders sometimes did that as a mean joke on kids), but she quickly determined that it was indeed the real thing. She took a long drink from her glass, following it with a sigh of contentment. It certainly hit the spot, she felt.

As she drank the ginger ale, her eyes roved about the cantina. She found that she was just about the only patron there except for a trio of rather tipsy-looking men sitting in a corner booth. As if they knew that she'd begun watching them, they turned to stare at her, and Hawk gave a start as they rose from their booth and staggered over to her. She tried to ignore them but failed as one leaned up against the bar.

"Hi-i-i, cutie," he said, obviously a good bit drunk.

Hawk rolled her eyes, quite understandably irritated that a trio of drunks would bother her while she was just enjoying a nice ginger ale. What got her goat, however, was the fact that this one was trying out the worst pick-up line in the history of pick-up lines! She took another swig from her ginger ale, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"_Copaani mirshmure'cye_,_ vod_?" she muttered, smirking slightly to herself.

The drunk staggered backward, a bit surprised. His companions appeared equally shocked. Even in their glazed-over eyes, their astonishment was evident.

"I know that heathen tongue," the drunk growled. "It's _Mandalorian_. I don't _like_ Mandalorians. I fought in the war against 'em, and I _hate_ Mandos!"

He went for his blaster, intending to put a smoking hole through Hawk, but Hawk turned and pointed at it.

"Leave the blaster where it is," she said, one eyebrow arching slightly. "And keep those hands where I can see 'em."

The drunk complied, but he and his buddies didn't return to their little booth. Hawk's skin began to prickle, as it often did whenever she found herself in danger, and she immediately began scanning the cantina for a way out if worst came to worst. Once again, it was another one of those little survival tips Atton had shared with her, and she couldn't help but think that it was quite a handy one to have. Her scan of the cantina revealed the lone exit: the front door. There were no back doors, no windows to leap through . . . If she had to leave suddenly, she'd have to make a lunge for the door. The drunks slowly surrounded her, and she watched them all from the corner of her eye. When they crossed their arms in a somewhat threatening manner, she dug a credit chip from her pocket and pressed it into the bartender's hand.

"Sir," she said, "in case things get messy, that was one good ginger ale, and I thank you."

The drunks got so close to Hawk that they were practically breathing down her neck, but she still didn't move. When one of them tried to bring his blaster slamming down onto the back of her skull, she wheeled around and swiftly brought her knee up between his legs. There was a horrible cracking sound, and the drunk collapsed to the floor, moaning loudly and clutching himself. Not two seconds passed before another of them tried to grab Hawk, and she promptly kicked him squarely in the solar plexus and watched as he tumbled to the floor, struggling to inhale. Not waiting around for the one remaining drunk to make his move, she spun about and made a mad dash for the door. The drunk she hadn't managed to hit took a shot at her but missed; it ricocheted off the door instead. Frustrated, he fired again, this time managing to hit Hawk in the arm. Hawk gave a gasp and stumbled on her way out the door, and out of sheer reflex action, she reached up to clutch her arm.

She charged through the streets of Mos Eisley, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Her breath came in quick, labored gasps, and she ran until she was certain the drunks weren't behind her and until her legs simply failed. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. By that time, she had managed to run all the way to the other side of Mos Eisley, and she found herself in a dark alley. She curled up into a little ball in the dirt, gasping for air and squeezing her arm. She gave her arm a quick inspection to see how much blood she was losing and to determine the seriousness of the injury before she basically went limp. She grunted in pain, sighing heavily.

"_A girl can't even drink a ginger ale in peace anymore,"_ she thought dejectedly. _"Some galaxy I live in."_

It wasn't too much longer before her eyelids slammed shut and she passed out from exhaustion. She never saw the hulking silhouette that stepped out from around a corner and scooped up her unconscious body from the ground.


	22. Rumors of War

******Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Two - Rumors of War**

Hawk awoke the next morning in a dimly lit hotel room with a blanket tucked around her and a kolto patch on her arm. She blinked, giving the room a visual once-over before she threw off the blanket and pushed herself out of bed. Rubbing her face with her hands, she draped her legs over the side of the bed and sighed.

"Nice to see you up, Hawk," said a familiarly husky voice. "I was beginning to think you were going to sleep the day away."

Hawk spun around, and her eyes fell on none other than Canderous, who sat lazily in an old overstuffed chair, smoking a deathstick. Hawk crawled out of bed and walked across the room to him, not believing her eyes.

"Candy," she breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"I think I should be asking _you_ that, _cyar'ika_," he chuckled. "I'd heard you'd run away from home, but I hadn't thought you'd show up in Mos Eisley."

"How'd I get here?"

"Found you in an alley with a blaster hole through your arm. Word around town is you were in quite a ruckus at the cantina last night." He paused as Hawk groaned with embarrassment. Snickering slightly, he took another puff from his deathstick before putting it out in a nearby ash tray. "How's your arm?"

Hawk stretched, testing out her arm. She put a little weight on it and lifted a book over her head before nodding with satisfaction.

"It feels fine," she answered, peeling the kolto patch off. She took a glance at the chrono on the wall. "Oh, gosh, I've got to get back to the _Hawk_. The others are gonna be wondering what happened to me!"

"The others?" Canderous questioned.

"Yeah, my friends. Come and meet them. They're all quite nice . . . I'm sure Metarie's in a hard panic since I'm not there, though."

Canderous' eyebrow went up at the mention of Metarie, but he said nothing. He merely scooped up a knapsack that obviously contained all his worldly possessions before following Hawk out of the run-down hotel building. They wandered back through the streets of Mos Eisley until they reached the _Ebon Hawk_, and surely enough, Hawk could hear a bit of angry yelling coming from within. She let down the loading ramp, and she and Canderous strode up it and into the ship. Upon entering, she found Metarie acting like a madwoman and the others racing crazily around the ship.

"Met," Atton was saying, somewhat exasperated, "I've looked in the 'fresher six times. There's nobody there!"

"And the cockpit? The comm room? What about the garage and the engine room? Did you check there?" Metarie asked frantically.

"_Yes_, Met. Hawk just isn't here!"

Metarie groaned as she turned away from her husband, and it was then that her eyes fell on Hawk and Canderous standing by the loading ramp. With a gasp of relief, she raced over to Hawk, grabbed the girl into her arms, and pressed Hawk's head to her chest. Hawk managed to struggle out of Metarie's grasp, but the older woman still clutched her shoulders.

"Oh, you're all right!" Metarie cried. "Where have you been?! Do you know we've spent half the morning looking for you?!"

"Yeah, and I'm sorry," Hawk answered. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I went down to the cantina for a ginger ale. There were some drunks there that tried to harass me, so I kicked 'em in places that reeeeally hurt before I got shot in the arm. So I ran to the other side of town, collapsed in an alley, and Candy found me there. He patched up my arm and gave me a place to sleep. Isn't that _wonderful_ of him?"

At this, she turned and beamed proudly at Canderous, and he just blushed. Metarie and Atton stared at him for a moment before Metarie released Hawk's shoulders and instead grabbed Canderous' hand.

"It's been too long," she whispered. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Canderous smiled faintly, but he said nothing. He just gave Metarie's hand a squeeze as he nodded slowly. Hawk asked no questions; she already knew the stories of the war about seventeen years prior against the Sith. It was no surprise to her that Metarie and Canderous knew each other, but their reunion brought a smile to her face nonetheless. After a minute, she turned toward the main hold, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted.

"Y'all can quit hunting for me! I'm back!"

At this, Jardin and Travis came racing from opposite sides of the ship. While Travis appeared utterly distraught and promptly scooped Hawk up into a huge hug, Jardin just waved casually at her as if she'd never been away. He instead held up a small viewscreen, where a reporter was giving the morning news.

"Looks like there's gonna be a rumble over on Ord Mantell," he said. "Republic fleet's moving to action."

Hawk scrambled out of Travis's hug, raced across the room to Jardin, and yanked the viewscreen from his hand.

"Let me see that!"

"_More distress on Ord Mantell,"_ the reporter said. _"An eyewitness report states that several Republic vessels have recently arrived in the system to lend assistance, including the_ Hammerhead_-class capital ship_ Sojourn_. The _Sojourn_ had already been en route to Ord Mantell approximately two standard days, leaving for the planet shortly after Admiral Carth Onasi issued a statement in which he said—and I quote—'It's taking me away from dealing with some family issues, but I have to go because duty demands it.' There you have it: a commendable attitude from our beloved admiral. In other news today—"_

Hawk looked up from the viewscreen, making eye contact with the others who had gathered around her. Her eyes seemed to fill with tears, and Jardin raised an eyebrow questioningly. She looked at him, trying to smile but failing.

"My dad's serving on that ship," she said in a hushed voice.

Dustil reached out and squeezed her shoulder, but he said nothing. He merely offered her a warm smile of support, which Hawk received gratefully. Anxious to see what else the reporter had to say about the unrest on Ord Mantell, she took a seat on a bench against the wall of the main hold, and Jardin and Travis took seats on either side of her. They all shared the little viewscreen while Dustil, Atton, Metarie, and Canderous seated themselves on the opposite side of the hold to engage in whatever sorts of boring conversations adults usually have. Soon, the _Ebon Hawk_ became as quiet as a graveyard at nighttime.


	23. Adverse Effects

******Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Three - Adverse Effects of a Father-Daughter Force Bond**

An hour dragged by as the news reporter on the viewscreen told of things that were either completely useless to common people or incredibly boring to Hawk and the boys. They were just about to shut the thing off and do something else when the reporter suddenly became extremely excited. An assistant handed her a news bulletin, and she hastily began to read.

"_This just in!"_ she cried._ "It's war on Ord Mantell! Forces from either side of the argument have taken up arms and have gotten the Republic involved! Eyewitness reports state that the_ Sojourn _is right in the thick of fighting!"_

Hawk stared at the screen, her stomach turning somersaults, as the reporter continued to read off what was listed in the bulletin she'd just been given. Then, suddenly, as if some invisible foe had appeared and driven a vibroblade through her abdomen, Hawk gasped in pain and clutched her left side. She tumbled from her seat and onto the floor, groaning in agony. Everyone raced to her aid, and Metarie leaned over her.

"Where's it hurt, Hawk?" she questioned gently, mentally running through the list of ailments that possibly could have befallen Hawk.

"My side . . . No, everywhere . . . All over . . . Burning, shooting pain . . . Oh, it hurts, it hurts, it _hurts_!"

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she gasped for breath. With a quivering hand and wide eyes as if he knew what was happening to Hawk, Jardin held out the viewscreen, where the reporter was telling of something else that had just come in.

"_The _Sojourn_ has been hit! I repeat, the_ Sojourn _just took fire to the bridge! The capital ship is pulling back to avoid any further damage . . ."_

They all turned back to Hawk, and Dustil gathered his whimpering sister into his arms. She was very nearly screaming, and tears poured from her tightly closed eyes. Metarie leaned closer to her, brushing away stringy tendrils of sweat-dampened hair from Hawk's forehead. Hawk inhaled rapidly through clenched teeth, still moaning with that horrible pain she was feeling.

"Oh, Force, make it stop!" she screamed, clinging desperately to the front of Dustil's tunic. She began to sob. "Please, make it stop hurting . . . But it's not me . . . I'm not even the one who's hurt . . . It's . . . It's . . ."

She broke off abruptly, and her eyes shot open. She stared up into Dustil's face, hurriedly searching his eyes with her own. The expression on her face reminded them all of a frightened animal that had been backed into a corner by bloodthirsty hunters. After a moment, she spoke again, and her voice was a trembling whisper.

"It's Dad . . . He's hurt! I can feel it . . . There's . . . there's enough pain for both of us . . . Augh, it _hurts_ . . . It hurts . . . Make it stop! Oh, Daddy . . . _Daddy!!_"

She began screaming again, her frantic cries of "Daddy!" mingled with incoherent sputterings. Dustil scooped her up and hauled her to medbay as Metarie followed, barking orders. The others stayed right where they were, not moving a muscle. They were too frightened by what was happening. Even from the main hold, they could hear Hawk screaming like a person who'd been terrorized, and they could hear Metarie yell the order for Dustil to pump the poor girl full of sedatives. Eventually, Hawk's frenzied screams of pain and anguish dwindled to a few nonsensical mumbles before they ended completely. All was suddenly, unnervingly quiet on the ship, and Jardin was so shaken by what he'd just witnessed that he leaped up, raced to the port dormitory, and locked himself inside before the others could see him break down in horrified tears.


	24. Recovering

**********Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Four - Recovering**

Two days passed after Hawk's episode, and not once during that time did she leave medbay. She just lay there on the bunk, staring blankly at the opposite wall. She refused to eat or sleep until she heard any news of whether or not her father was all right, and whenever anyone entered the room, she'd turn and simply ask them if there was any news. The answer was usually "no," so back she went to staring at the wall. The _Ebon Hawk_ remained in Mos Eisley, basically grounded, until Hawk recovered from her harrowing experience. The others took turns sitting by her bedside in case she made any improvement, and it was usually Jardin or Dustil who was found there. Shortly after the incident, Metarie explained to them all that Hawk was suffering one of the adverse side effects of the bond she undoubtedly shared with her father. She explained that bonds between parent and child were created from love, and perhaps the one between Hawk and Carth had been instated since the day she was conceived. And once, when Dustil was sitting by Hawk's side, holding her hand (though she, perhaps, was unaware of it), Metarie had told him that unless they learned something about Carth's physical state, Hawk might never recover. It was then that Dustil began a dogged search for any news he could scrape up, if only to help his sister, yet there was a sorrowful look in his eyes that betrayed his own unrelenting desire to find out for himself if his father was all right.

The group spent the two days in Mos Eisley doing quiet things so they would not disturb Hawk. In between their shifts at her bedside, they kept themselves occupied with various activities. Metarie mended the rips and tears in Hawk's jacket, Travis tried to read a book, and Canderous bade his time by caring for the group's weapons. Dustil, of course, remained on the hunt for word of Carth's health, while the droids went about their usual duties on the ship. Jardin was the only one who refused to do anything. He sat moping in the boys' dorm almost all day, coming out only to pay a visit to the 'fresher or to get something to eat. Everyone could tell he was worried for Hawk. They all were. But it frightened Jardin the most to see her lying in medbay, staring at that wall and sometimes not even blinking. It frustrated him to know that nothing he said or did could pull her from her state of lethargy. It was on the second day that Jardin fell into an especially deep pit of depression, so Atton took it upon himself to cheer the lad by visiting him in the dorm.

"Hey, Jardin," he said, knocking on the wall of the dorm. "You all right?"

Jardin said nothing. He simply remained sitting on the edge of his bunk, staring at his clasped hands. Atton advanced into the room and took a seat beside the boy.

"Still worrying over Hawk?" he asked.

Jardin nodded slowly, still not saying a word. Atton took the hint and fell silent as well, and the two of them sat side-by-side on the bunk for a few long minutes before Jardin sighed heavily. Atton looked over at him, and Jardin looked up into the older man's eyes.

"I just want her to be okay," he whispered. "I've never seen her like this. It scares me."

"I know it does, Jar," Atton replied. "Met and I've known her since she was a real little kid. She's gotten to be like family. But hey—I think all this worrying is making us a bit crazy. And I think _you_ could use a little cheering up."

"I do NOT need cheering up!" Jardin snarled, indignation burning on his face.

"Okay, so you don't need cheering up," Atton conceded. He fished a card deck from his pants' pocket and flashed it at Jardin, smirking as the boys eyes lit up. "Feel like playing a game, though?"

Jardin perked up somewhat, a tiny smile forcing its way onto his formerly grim face. He stared long and hard at the cards as Atton held them out, temptation gnawing at him. He slowly ran his tongue along his lip and chewed at his index fingernail before looking up.

"You'd play pazaak with me?"

Atton smiled, flipping through his cards. An expression of love crossed his face as he turned a plus-three card over in his hand.

"Why not? I used to be pretty good in my day. Besides, you haven't had any fun in a while. Might even get your mind off things."

Jardin grinned, reaching under his bunk and pulling his own deck out from its "secret" hiding place. He and Atton stood simultaneously, and Atton gripped the boy's shoulder in a rather paternal manner as they strode out to the main hold. Settling themselves in a corner, Atton dealt the cards to get the game underway. They'd only barely begun playing when Dustil raced out of the comm room, appearing very excited about something. A sheet of paper trembled in his nervously shaking hand.

"Metarie!" he shouted. "_Metarie!!_"

Metarie dashed out of medbay at the sound of her name, her hair made unkempt by her sudden flurry of motion.

"Goodness, Dustil, what is it?" she asked.

"Look," he said, thrusting the paper into her hands.

Metarie's eyes quickly scanned the words printed on the paper, and her breath caught. Her own hands began to tremble as she looked up at Dustil. Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

"I've got to tell Hawk," she breathed, wheeling around and racing back to medbay.

When she arrived in medbay, it was as it always was. Hawk slowly turned to face her, her normally shimmering blue eyes seeming quite dull. Her jet-black hair lay in a tousled mess across the pillow, and her face was pale and drawn—a frightening change from the cheerful teenager that had existed in her place only a few days prior. It was as if she'd been suffering from a terrible illness.

"Any news?" she questioned, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

Metarie nodded, sinking into the chair by the bunk. She smiled at Hawk and reached over to squeeze the girl's hand before turning back to the paper.

"Listen to this, Hawk," she said. "It's a transcript of this morning's news report. Dustil just got it from the comm room."

She cleared her throat as she began to read.

"'After the recent space battle over Ord Mantell, word spread quickly that Admiral Onasi had been critically wounded. He was rushed to the medical facilities aboard his ship, where medics tended his injuries as mechanics repaired damage the _Sojourn_ sustained during the battle. Today, two days after the battle, the admiral's doctor issued a statement declaring that Admiral Onasi has been released from medical with a clean bill of health.'"

Metarie paused to steal a glance at Hawk. There wasn't much of a change in the girl, but it seemed as though a soft rosy color was beginning to make a return to her ashen cheeks. Metarie smiled warmly before continuing.

"'The admiral stated that he will now continue dealing with certain family issues, which so far are unknown by the public. So, there is some good news, my friends: our beloved admiral is back on his feet once more.' Oh, Hawk, isn't that wonderful?"

A barely noticeable smile crossed Hawk's face, and a tear rolled out of her eye and splattered against the pillow. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes for a few moments. Her smile gradually became broader.

"He's all right," she whispered. "He's all right."

Metarie reached over and patted Hawk's hand, tears welling in her own eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart; he's fine."

"And that means I'm fine, too."

"Yes, it does." Metarie sighed and smiled tenderly at Hawk. "I'll bet you want to go home now."

"Well . . ." Hawk began, her voice still quiet, "yeah. But I can't. Not yet. I need to see Larka's grave first. _Then_ I'll go home."

She slowly pushed herself up from the bunk, her face appearing more like it had before her traumatic experience. Metarie reached out to aid her in sitting up, for Hawk was still fairly weak. Though she was still recovering, she began to smile happily, and her eyes even began to sparkle somewhat.

"I'll go home right after we go to Dantooine," she said. "And if Mom and Dad decide to punish me for running away, then I'll just be mature about it and accept it."

Reaching up to her neck, she lovingly caressed the necklace that hung around it and smiled gently to herself.

"He's all right . . ."

Metarie rose from the seat beside her bunk, went to end of the corridor, and leaned out into the main hold. The others looked up when they saw her, and they silently pressed her for word. She just grinned.

"She's come around," she announced. "Everything's fine."

Upon hearing the news, Jardin leaped up from the pazaak game and tossed his cards aside even though he was winning, evoking a sigh of relief from Atton and a laugh from Metarie. He rushed past Metarie and into medbay, where he found Hawk sitting alertly. Quickly, he ran over to her and threw his arms around her. Hawk chuckled lightly, returning his hug and patting him on the back.

"I'm all right, Jar," she grinned.

"Yeah, but I got so _scared_!" Jardin cried into her slightly matted hair. "I thought you'd never stop staring at that wall! Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again, okay?"

"Okay," Hawk agreed with a smile.

Jardin hugged her again, more tightly this time, before he suddenly lifted his head and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. Hawk froze, and soon Jardin released her. Grinning, he turned to leave medbay, and Hawk watched him go before pushing herself out of bed to follow him. Her legs were a bit wobbly from two days of not being used, and she had to grip the wall for support, but she stuck with it and soon managed to walk out of medbay and out into the main

hold. She had no sooner appeared in the hold than Dustil charged at her and swept her up into a huge hug. His was much tighter than Jardin's, but it was definitely shorter. When he let her go, he just squeezed her shoulders and smiled. Hawk returned his grin, and between their two smiles, they said everything they needed to. Relief that their father was in one piece was crystal-clear in their eyes. Travis approached her from the side, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Glad you're okay," he whispered, giving her a third hug.

"Thanks, Trav," she replied.

When Travis pulled away, she put her hands on her hips and looked around the ship, her eyes shining.

"Okay, whoever else wants to give me a hug, you'd better make it snappy, because I'm going up to the cockpit to get this ship in the air, and then I'm going to have a much-needed shower!"

Everyone laughed as none other than Canderous ambled into the hold from the garage to embrace Hawk. Not being a man for heavy sentimentalism, his hug was a quick one, and he soon allowed her to head up to the cockpit and get to work. The engines roared to life as Hawk switched them on, and she allowed them to idle for a minute as they warmed. When their preparation sequence finished, the _Ebon Hawk_'s engines were rumbling at full-power, and Hawk grinned proudly. She ran her hands lovingly across the controls before easing the _Hawk_ up and out of Mos Eisley's docking bays. Once they'd escaped Tatooine's atmosphere, she quickly punched Dantooine's coordinates into the navicomputer. The next second, the little freighter made the jump to hyperspace, and she switched to autopilot.

"_Next stop, the shower!"_ she chuckled to herself, heading for the 'fresher. _"Thank goodness for hot water!"_


	25. Larka

**********Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Five - Larka**

It was nearly sunrise the next day when the _Ebon Hawk_ touched down on a landing pad on the outskirts of a tiny town in the midst of Dantooine's grassy plains. All was still on the serene planet, and Hawk was the first one out of the ship as soon as it landed. She stood on the loading ramp, silently observing the wonders of the early morning and inhaling deeply of the clean, fresh air. A cool breeze ruffled her hair as she slipped from the ship and leaned back against its hull. She closed her eyes, enjoying that moment of peace, before Jardin stepped out of the ship as well.

"Good morning," he said, coming to her side.

Hawk turned and grinned at him, answering his unspoken question of her well-being with a simple nod. Pulling her worn jacket tighter around herself, she took a step forward and started walking in the general direction of the place Dustil had told her Larka's grave was. It was in the gardens of the Jedi Enclave, and she wanted to be there for sunrise. As she walked off, Jardin ran up alongside her and grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. Hawk turned, one eyebrow arched ever so subtly.

"Let me go with you," he pleaded.

"This is something I've got to do alone, Jardin," Hawk answered with a shake of her head.

"I won't get in the way."

Hawk smiled gently, reaching out to pat his shoulder. She studied his begging eyes for a moment before shaking her head again.

"I'm sure you won't, but I just need to see this by myself."

Jardin tried to protest, but Hawk silenced him with a single "look." All she had to do was turn her head slightly and stare at him in a faintly condescending manner, and he backed off. This was yet another trait she had inherited from her father. She started toward the Enclave ruins, and Jardin remained behind . . . but only for a minute. He allowed her to go far enough so that he was out of her peripheral vision before he quietly sneaked after her. However, he failed to notice when Travis slipped out of the _Ebon Hawk_ and followed as well.

·

By the time Hawk reached the gardens, it was almost time for the sun to burst over the horizon. The sky glowed with magnificent shades of pink and orange, causing everything the first rays of warm sunlight hit to gleam with those colors. It was a peaceful morning, by far, but Hawk didn't feel at peace. Her stomach twisted as she rounded a curve in the path and her eyes fell on a simple granite headstone standing solemnly among a bed of roses and marigolds. As she moved closer, she gradually made out the letters that were carved into the headstone's face.

**LARKA MARIA ONASI.**

Her breath caught in her chest as she neared her sister's grave, and she sank to her knees in the tall, dew-covered grass when she was less than a foot away from the marker. She ran her hands lovingly over the weather-beaten headstone, tracing the letters of her sister's name with her index finger. Tears shone in her eyes as she gently fingered the Onasi crest emblazoned above the letters.

"They didn't tell me," she whispered, gazing long and hard at the stone. "They didn't tell me about you. All this time, I've known you were missing from my life, and yet . . . and yet I _didn't_ know."

She bowed her head, heaving a shuddering sigh in an attempt to keep herself from crying before looking up again. She continued to trace the letters in Larka's name, running her fingers across the granite until the tender skin was red and sore.

"I miss you, Larka. I wish you'd survived. I wish you were here with me now. I wish we could have had all those things that sisters have. You know . . . We could have talked about boys and stuff like that. I'd get to tell you how really cute Jardin and Travis are . . . We could have had secrets that were just between us. We could have had codes, passwords, secret handshakes . . . We could have been best friends." Tears welled in Hawk's eyes and began streaming down her face as her voice began to break. "Why did I survive while you didn't? What is so important about _me_ that _you_ had to be the one that died? I was born the younger, the baby, the runt! _Why me?_ What's so special about _me_ that _I_ survived while _you_ didn't?"

She buried her face in her hands as she crumpled into mournful sobs, begging the question of "Why?" and wishing with her very essence to see her sister. She wept for several long minutes, overshadowed by grief despite the bright sunlight warming her back and the cheerful twittering of nearby birds. It was not long after her tears abated slightly that a pale, slender hand reached out to rest upon her shoulder. Hawk sat bolt upright, barely breathing, as her eyes darted around the gardens.

"Who's there?" she questioned, her voice trembling with fear. She suddenly found herself aware of a familiar presence, but it was one that she had not felt in an incredibly long time. "Who are you?"

"_It's me, Hawk. Don't you recognize me?" _

With a gasp of shock, Hawk leaped to her feet and spun around, coming face-to-face with the image of a fifteen-year-old girl who looked exactly like her in almost every respect. She had a warm smile that Hawk recognized as the same one Revan often flashed, and Hawk felt her knees begin to shake. She reached out for support and found herself grabbing hold of the headstone behind her as her legs buckled.

"No . . ." she whispered. "It can't be . . ."

"Can't it?" her visitor asked.

"B—but you died at birth!" Hawk cried. "You will stillborn! How can you . . ."

". . . be the same age as you? I don't know. Maybe it's_ because_ of you. We had a bond, you know, while Mom was carrying us. It's what made you cry for hours after you were born; it's what made that undeniable hole in your life."

"Oh, Larka," Hawk breathed. She reached for her sister's hands, but grabbed nothing but air. Nevertheless, she didn't care that she was speaking with a ghost. "I _know_ it's you. You _feel_ the same as you did then."

"Well, duh," Larka laughed. "I haven't changed, Hawk. I might be dead, but I haven't changed. _This_ is what I would have been if I'd lived. So no, I haven't changed. Only you have."

"_What?_"

"Look at yourself. You're wearing a torn up old jacket that probably came out of a junk heap, a pair of gloves that would look better on a common thief, and your hair is an absolute mess. What happened, Hawk?"

"What do you mean, 'What happened?' _This_ is what I am!"

"No, it isn't. You are the daughter of Carth Onasi, Admiral of the Republic fleet, not some rogue who travels around the galaxy scraping up a few credits wherever possible! Hawk, even though I'm here and you're there, I can feel your pain. It hurts me."

"But how . . . ?"

"Our bond, remember?" Larka moved closer to Hawk. "I want what's best for you, little sister. I don't want you to be in pain anymore. I want you to be _happy_. Please, make peace with yourself and everything that's happened to you. Go home to Mom and Dad, I beg you! I feel that something absolutely terrible is going to happen to you if you don't!"

"Like what? What's going to happen?"

"I . . . I don't know." Larka shook her head. "I just know that it's going to be awful unless you go home and ask Mom and Dad's forgiveness for running away. I know you've begun to want to. I know how lonely you've gotten on that ship of yours. Please, do us both a favor and save yourself more pain. I swear to you, Hawk, that unless you get home as fast as you can, you're going to be in worse pain than you were when Trandor Vinn's pet kath hounds stabbed you! Please . . . go home."

Larka's specter began to fade, and Hawk reached in vain out to grab a hold of her. Her eyes widened with despair as she struggled to latch onto her sister, if only for a second.

"Larka, no!" she cried. "Please, don't leave me! Larka, I need you! You're my sister! _I love you!_"

But it was too late. Larka was gone again. The garden fell incredibly still, and for the first time in nine years, Hawk felt as though she'd patched a part of the hole in her life. Even with that bit of closure, her meeting with Larka had left her awed and terrified, and she collapsed to her knees as the tears streamed down her cheeks in torrents. As she wrapped her arms around herself, Travis, who had been crouching nearby so he would not to disturb her, raced to her side. He gently gathered her into his arms and rocked her slowly as she turned and buried her face in his shoulder. She wept bitterly into him as he cradled her, and neither one of them saw Jardin standing only a few feet away with his fists clenched. It was obvious, from the stance he took and the way he was breathing rapidly, that he was battling a vicious wave of jealousy. Angrily, he turned on heel and strode as fast as he could back to the _Ebon Hawk_, muttering under his breath the entire way. Not once did he look back at Hawk and Travis, but this was advantageous for him, since what he hadn't seen certainly would have worsened his jealousy. He never saw Hawk throw her arms around Travis's neck for support, and he certainly never saw Travis plant a gentle kiss on Hawk's cheek. He just kept going, his pace increasing gradually until he was running flat-out back to the ship.


	26. The Return of Trandor Vinn

**********Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Six - The Return of Trandor Vinn**

Not too many minutes later, Hawk's sobs had subsided, and she and Travis had begun making their way back to the _Ebon Hawk_. Hawk remained quiet during the walk back to the ship, and Travis refrained from pressuring her into talking. He merely kept his arm protectively around her shoulders as if he intended to shield her from all wrong. His occasional glance at her revealed his concern, and though he never said a word, he didn't have to. Hawk already knew that he was giving her his utmost sympathy, and she was grateful for it. She needed his support during this rough time in her life. Besides, she was also grateful for the fact that their argument of a few days prior had been smoothed over without either of them having to say anything.

They were about a quarter of a mile from the _Ebon Hawk_ when Hawk looked up. With a gasp of terror, she stopped dead in her tracks, and Travis's eyes immediately fell on what had frightened her. Standing there, not three feet in front of them, was none other than Trandor Vinn. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he smirked devilishly.

"Good morning, young one," he said, nodding to Hawk. He limped over to her and grabbed her chin in his hand. "You're out early, aren't you?"

"Get away from me!" Hawk hissed, snapping her head to the side and freeing herself from his vile grasp.

"Ooh, but you _are_ the feisty one," Vinn chuckled. "So much like your mother."

Hawk's sapphire eyes burned like fire as she glared at the crime lord. It was all she could do to keep from spitting in his face. The way his eyes were locked onto her gave her an odd feeling in her stomach, yet she kept her head high and her shoulders squared.

"What do you know about my mother?" she growled under her breath.

"Only what you yourself have been hiding from," Vinn answered nonchalantly, shrugging.

"Step away from her," Travis interjected suddenly, stepping in between Hawk and Trandor.

Vinn critically eyed Travis for a moment, almost as if he were sizing the boy up. From his estimation, the boy was seventeen and was only about three inches shy of six feet tall. He himself was well over six and a half feet tall and about two hundred pounds; taking out Travis would be little or no trouble.

"And if I don't?" he said suavely.

"You lay one hand on her, and so help me, I'll kill you."

"Ooh, I'm so _scared_!" Vinn mocked with a roll of his eyes. He roughly shoved Travis aside. "Out of my way, _boy_."

Vinn neared Hawk and grabbed her arm in a manner that made Travis wonder if the bounty hunter's intentions led to his bedroom, and the young man grunted and made a mad lunge to pull him away. Vinn suddenly found himself saddled with all the weight of a seventeen-year-old boy, and it was enough to make him release his grasp on Hawk. Hawk took the opportunity to run about fifteen feet in the opposite direction before she stopped and turned back. While she watched, Vinn managed to scrape Travis from his back, knocking him almost to the ground. Travis quickly scrambled back to his feet, but it wasn't fast enough. Vinn whipped one of his twin blasters from its holster and pulled the trigger, not even taking the time to aim. With a yelp of pain, Travis tumbled backward, clutching his stomach. Hawk's eyes widened as she helplessly watched him fall.

"Travis!" she screamed, racing to his side.

She threw herself to the ground beside him, easing him into her arms. He was already unconscious, and blood gushed from his abdomen. A thin layer of sweat had beaded across his forehead, and Hawk brushed his brown hair aside to wipe it away. When Vinn strode up behind her, she spun around and shot him the nastiest glare that side of the Outer Rim. Vinn ignored it, instead looking down at Travis.

"So, you found yourself another one, hmm?" he said with a menacing laugh. "Another young fool without the presence of mind to stand in front of you and absorb a bullet for you?"

"You'll _pay_ for this, Vinn!" Hawk cried, enraged. "I swear to you, if you touch me, my father will be down your throat in a heartbeat!"

"_Your father_, feh," Vinn snarled. "I doubt he even knows where you are."

Heartlessly, he clamped his hand around her upper arm and dragged her to her feet. Travis's limp body slipped from her hold, and Hawk struggled to free herself and return to cradle him.

"Let me go!" she screamed as Vinn dragged her to his ship, which was waiting nearby behind a rock face. "Let me go, you son of a schutta!"

She kicked and thrashed and even tried to chew through his hand, but to no avail. Vinn's hold on her arm was simply too strong. She was unable to break free as he tossed her into the cargo hold of his ship and locked her inside, ignoring her angry screams and threats that included rather colorful language in both Mandalorian and Basic. He merely made her his prisoner.

·

Meanwhile, back at the _Ebon Hawk_, Jardin's back straightened. He'd heard the shouts and the gunshot. He'd recognized Hawk's voice when she screamed for help.

And he ran.

He ran as fast as he could to the place from which he'd heard the cries coming, knowing he had to get there before it was too late. He had to do one good thing and save Hawk, but as he arrived at the scene, his heart sank.

He arrived in time to see Trandor Vinn's little ship lift off from Dantooine's surface and disappear beyond the clear blue sky. He cursed beneath his breath, swearing to himself that if he ever got a hold of Vinn, he'd break "that dirtbag's" neck in two as easily as if it were a toothpick. He turned to head back to the ship and tell the others what had happened, but it was at that moment that Travis's motionless form caught his eye. The boy was literally lying in a pool of his own blood, and whatever malicious feelings Jardin had held toward him dissipated. He knew what it felt like to be lying unconscious and waiting for someone to help him, and despite having felt jealousy over Hawk when Travis was involved, he didn't want him to suffer like that.

Quietly, Jardin slipped over to Travis's side and carefully shoved his shoulder up under the other boy's arm. He threw Travis's arm around his neck and allowed Travis's full body weight to lean against him as he hauled him back to the _Ebon Hawk_. The whole time, he couldn't help but wonder where or why Vinn had taken Hawk. He felt helpless when he realized that his stupid jealousy had allowed her to be taken prisoner by the very criminal they'd been trying to escape. But he couldn't think of this; not yet, anyway. Travis was probably dying right then and there. He had to get help.

"Hey, everybody!" he called as he approached the _Ebon Hawk_. "Get out here right now!"

A couple of seconds passed before Atton, Metarie, Dustil, and Canderous thundered down the loading ramp. Immediately, Metarie's eyes fell on her son. She gasped, distraught, and covered her mouth with her hands as she ran to him, gathering him to herself.

"Oh, my Force!" she cried. "_Travis!_"

She sank to her knees on the ground with him in her arms, tears streaming down her face. Atton knelt by his wife, reaching over and checking for a pulse in Travis's neck.

"Baby?" Metarie wept, revealing a previously unseen vulnerability. "Baby, wake up!"

"He's still alive," Jardin offered. "I found him not too far from the Enclave."

Dustil and Canderous wheeled around to Jardin, each evidently anxious to be informed of recent events. Dustil grabbed Jardin's shoulders and shook the boy a bit violently. His eyes gleamed with fear; it was as if he'd been made rabid by that raging emotion.

"What happened?" he asked quickly, his eyebrows furrowed worriedly. "And where's my sister?!"

"Trandor Vinn showed up. He took Hawk."

Atton and Metarie exchanged an anxious glance, and Dustil's hands fell from Jardin's shoulders.

"No . . ." he whispered, backing away.

"That _hut'uun_ will pay with his life if he hurts that girl," Canderous growled angrily.

Without saying a word, Atton and Metarie scooped Travis up and carried him into the ship. The others followed, retracting the loading ramp as they went, and headed after them into the medbay. Jardin leaned in the doorway as Metarie set to work caring for her son's brutal injury. Atton and Dustil helped when they could, providing medpacs and assisting Metarie when she began impromptu surgery on Travis. Dustil seemed to know what he was doing in the way of medical care; Atton just looked utterly terrified. Jardin realized then that he'd never seen him like that. It was a new experience to see Atton's jaw set, his lips drawn into a thin line, and fear written across his face.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Jardin asked, crossing his arms as he watched the frenzied scene in medbay. "I mean, Hawk seems to like him pretty good. I don't think she'd want to be rescued only to find out he bought the farm."

The expression that came over Metarie's face told him that he should have kept his fat mouth snapped tightly shut. Had it not been for her past Jedi training, she might very well have gone into hysterics again. Instead, she just concentrated harder on removing Trandor Vinn's bullet from Travis's abdomen. Atton handed her another medpac before looking up at Jardin.

"You said Vinn took Hawk?" he asked, and Jardin nodded. "Where?"

"I dunno. Back to his hideout, I guess."

"What did he want with her?" Dustil questioned, still quite upset by his sister's abduction. Despite his worry, however, he still remained focused in assisting Metarie with her task.

Jardin shrugged and shoved his hands deeply into his pockets.

"Back on Nar Shaddaa, he said she was worth millions if he ransomed her back to the Republic."

"Vinn's not gonna ransom her back," Atton said warily. "I know how he works. He kidnaps children of important people, offers them up for ransom, and while he waits for the money, he tortures them until they break. Then, when the cash shows up, he just kills them."

Jardin shuddered, terrified of the danger Hawk was undoubtedly in. As if Vinn hadn't proved to be a heartless beast on Nar Shaddaa, he was certainly showing his true colors.

"I don't want to know what he'll do to Hawk," he said, his voice tight with fear and worry. "He'll probably take her to his room and . . ."

He ended it there, unable to say more, but he grimaced at the horrible thought. Atton rose from beside the medbay's bunk and walked to Jardin's side, reaching out and clasping his hand comfortingly about the boy's shoulder.

"Vinn won't get a chance to do that, Jardin," he replied quietly. "We won't give him one. _I_ won't give him that chance."

Jardin turned to look at him questioningly, but Atton had already gone. Jardin caught sight of him making a beeline for the _Ebon Hawk_'s cockpit, where Atton sank into the pilots' chair and immediately began pressing buttons.

"Yeah, it's been a long time, sweetheart," he whispered as he brushed his hands across the control panel, "but let's see if you can still get us out of trouble. Punch it!"

With that, the ship's twin engines roared to life, and a little bit of skillful maneuvering on Atton's part took it straight up into the sky. The _Hawk_ seemed to hover in midair for a moment before it blasted off, full-throttle, for the stars. Atton hastily punched Nar Shaddaa's coordinates into the navicomputer and reached for the lever that activated the hyperdrive.

"Next stop, the Smugglers' Moon," he called, then muttered under his breath as the stars streaked past. "And Vinn, you and me have got a little score to settle."


	27. Interrogation

**********Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven - Interrogation**

It was quite dark and dank in the bowels of Trandor Vinn's headquarters. Hawk was none too pleased about being bound and gagged and left in a force cage down there. The only silver lining was in the fact that the force cage provided a tiny amount of light, so she wasn't entirely blinded to her surroundings. Not only was she angry about being abducted and thrown into a damp prison that smelled of mildew and had a rat infestation, but she was also genuinely irritated over the facts that her hands were tied together behind her with the coarsest piece of rope in the galaxy and her mouth had a wad of gauze shoved in it and a thick bandana tied around it.

"_I swear,"_ she thought. _"If I ever get out of here, I'm gonna track down every single son of a schutta like this Trandor Vinn and send them all to Mustafar. They can burn there for all I care."_

Many a thought such as this kept her company during her stay in the dungeon. Her most savored was the idea that she would persuade her father into lending her the _Sojourn_ for a little joyriding. She had this master plan worked out that involved tracking down the galaxy's scum and blasting them into carbon flakes with the Republic warship's powerful laser cannons. It seemed like quite a nice plan, but fifteen years of living with Carth had taught her that asking for the keys to his capital ship would earn her nothing except a stern glare with one eyebrow arched. Hawk sighed. So much for _that_ plan. She didn't even really have a Plan B yet . . .

She tried to loosen the knots in the rope that bound her hands for a while, but that effort soon tired her and she decided to go back to plotting her escape. Almost all of her plans would have to include some way for her to get herself completely free of the gag and ropes and some way for her to lift a blaster from one of Vinn's underlings. Of course, there was always the hope that her friends would come for her, but she highly doubted the probability of that. Even if they were to come searching for her, how would they know where to begin? She sighed again.

"_I hope Travis survived. He took a hard hit trying to save me. If I ever get out of here and he's still alive, I'm gonna hug him for taking a bullet to the stomach for me. Sheesh, girl, what the Force are you thinking?! What do you mean, 'if'? You're sure as heck gonna get out of here. . . . Eventually."_

She made another attempt at loosening her ropes, and for a minute, she thought she'd gotten them to budge just a bit. Suddenly hopeful, she struggled against them harder, but at that moment, the heavy iron door of the prison swung open as Trandor Vinn strode in. Close behind him was a black-cloaked figure who kept his head down, and Hawk staggered to her feet to get a clearer look at him. She failed at identifying him, but she never took her eyes off him. She watched him warily as Vinn approached her cell.

"Enjoying your stay, my dear?" he asked.

"Mmf, mmmrph, mf!" Hawk's answer was muffled by the gag. "You mmph of a mmrph! Mmmf!"

"What was that? I'm afraid you'll have to speak up. I can't understand you."

Hawk snarled quite audibly, and her eyes narrowed. Vinn flicked his wrist, and a guard appeared at either side of him.

"Loose the gag and ropes," he ordered.

The guards shut down the force cage's electrical field, and while Hawk could have made her getaway right then, she noticed that every single one of Vinn's men was armed with a huge blaster rifle. She also noticed that every single one of them had her in their sights. Obviously, their orders were to shoot first and ask questions later in case of an escape attempt. She sighed, suddenly disheartened, as the guards cut her hands free of the ropes and pulled the bandana away from her mouth. She violently spit the wad of gauze halfway across the room and shook her hair from her face as she turned to glare at Vinn.

"Let me go," she said, her voice low. "_Now_."

"What's that, some kind of Jedi trick?" Vinn scoffed. "I'm sorry, my dear, but that only works on the weak-minded . . . which I assure you, I am not. However, if you want to play mind games, then I can certainly oblige you."

At this, the cloaked figure behind Vinn stepped forward and pushed his cloak back from his face. Hawk gasped at the hideous sight that the cloak had been concealing. His skin was warped and gray with black veins protruding everywhere. He was missing an eye, and all that was left of it was an empty socket that seemed to still bleed on occasion. Hawk found herself looking for a way to get away from this monster, but she found nowhere to run. Vinn chuckled mercilessly.

"This is a very good friend of mine," he said. "He has been trained in the Sith arts, and is a master at . . . manipulating minds. He is in charge of breaking you to the point where you're on your knees begging for mercy."

He stepped closer to Hawk; so close, in fact, that she could tell he seriously needed an Anduvian salt tablet . . . or two. She backed up against the wall, trying to remain strong in the midst of the fear that overwhelmed her.

"That's what I want, Hawk Onasi," he whispered. "I want to see you crawl. I want to see you broken and bloodied and screaming for mercy."

"Why?" Hawk gasped, horrified. "Why are you doing this?!"

"Because once I had the chance to make your mother crawl. I had the chance to watch her die slowly and painfully by my hand, but your _father_ got in the way. I had the chance to kill them both, to make them suffer. I had the chance to gain immense favor with Darth Malak himself for killing them, but your _father_ got in the blasted way! And I swore revenge."

He stepped back and nodded to his Sith "friend," who slowly advanced toward Hawk. Vinn clasped his hands behind his back, taking a rigid military-style stance.

"One Onasi is as good as another," he said. "Besides, it would give me every pleasure to watch you die and to know that as you are, your father's heart is shattering into a million, irreparable pieces. And you _have_ to have some sort of 'Force bond' with them that will cause your death to force them to their knees!"

At this and with a wave of his hand, Vinn allowed the Sith Master to begin his cruel work. Hawk could feel the demon's presence in her mind instantly, and her heart raced. Her mother had warned her of mind tricks such as this. They were capable of inflicting such internal agony that not even a Jedi could withstand the pain without utmost concentration. But there was something else. If she could put up a wall and keep him from getting inside in the first place, she would have a fighting chance.

_A wall._ But where would she get a wall? Hawk hurriedly tried to think of everything she could that would help until she suddenly remembered something Atton had told her during one visit with him. Squaring her shoulders back and concentrating, she mentally took herself back to Nar Shaddaa, to that booth where she had met Jardin, and mentally scattered her pazaak deck around the table of her mind.

"_Switch the face of the plus-one/minus-one card; totals are nine-ten. Switch the face of the plus-two/minus-two card; totals are eight-eleven. Switch . . ."_


	28. Rescue

**********Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Eight - Rescue!**

When the _Ebon Hawk_ landed at Nar Shaddaa again late that night, it landed heavily and with a thud, but it landed securely. Not too long after landing, everyone met in the main hold to discuss the situation of Hawk's capture. Jardin was the first to give a suggestion, but it was shot down rather quickly as it involved his storming Trandor Vinn's lair by himself. Atton told him up front that he'd do Hawk no good if he went and got himself killed, and that the name "idiot" would fit him nicely if he tried anything stupid. Jardin refrained from making another suggestion and instead sat quietly in a corner to mope over the atrocities he pictured Vinn exacting on Hawk.

"Jardin _does_ have a point about storming the place," Dustil interjected. "If we were to sneak up to it, we could probably take out the main guards before blasting through the rest of the base."

"Nope, it wouldn't work," Atton sighed, shaking his head. "Vinn's probably got every guard he has posted at the front door. I'm pretty sure he knows we're coming, and he'd like us to fall into a nice little trap. What could be a better prize than getting Hawk _and_ us?"

"Point taken," Dustil answered. "So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest we play it low until we get there, then break in and sneak through until we get to wherever he's keeping her. If we do it just right, we can get in and get out, and they won't know what's happened until we're long gone."

Jardin sighed, exasperated, and leaped to his feet. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his green eyes flashed like lightning. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that he was incredibly angry.

"But what if during our time of sneaking around, Vinn's off doing something horrible to Hawk?!" he cried. "What if being quiet gets her hurt, or worse?! What if all this sneakin' around gets her shot and killed, or even slowly tortured to death?! I'm not gonna let that happen! I frackin' _kissed_ her, for Force's sake, and I'm not about to let her die!"

Atton and Dustil stared at Jardin, their eyes wide and mouths even wider. Canderous just watched him carefully, his arms crossed. They found it somewhat odd that Jardin would leap to Hawk's rescue like that, but after a moment, they seemed to understand. After all, _they_ had been fifteen at one time, too. They relaxed, and as they did, they noticed that Jardin did as well. But his eyes were still wide, like a cornered animal's, and his breathing was shallow and rapid. Everyone could tell that he was scared. He was scared for Hawk. A moment passed in tense silence before he turned on heel and headed toward the loading ramp.

"Where are you going?" Dustil asked.

Jardin turned slowly, deliberately, around. His eyes narrowed into slits, and his jaw stiffened visibly.

"I'm going to save Hawk," he said. "I don't care what the rest of you are doing, but I'm going to find her!"

"I'm coming with you," a weak voice said suddenly.

Everyone spun around to see Travis leaning heavily against the door of medbay, his hand pressed to his bandaged abdomen. He was obviously too weak to even be standing, much less running around Trandor Vinn's hideout. Metarie walked up behind him and laid a tender hand on his shoulder. She smiled faintly, being sure to keep a secure hold on Travis lest he fall.

"I tried to keep him down," she said. "He just wanted to get up and help."

"Travis," Atton said sternly, "you can help by staying here and healing. Hawk doesn't need you getting shot again. _I_ don't need you getting shot again. You're making my hair gray, boy!"

"But, Dad," Travis protested. "I let her get captured in the first place! If I'd been more alert, Vinn never would have gotten her!"

Atton strode across the room and clamped his hand around his son's shoulder, gazing at him with a paternal affection none of them had ever witnessed in him before that moment.

"Travis," he said gently. "Stay here with your mother. Please."

Travis was about to protest again, but he saw something in Atton's pale brown eyes that made him stand down. He nodded slowly and stepped away from the rest of the group, retreating to medbay to try to get a little rest. Metarie lingered for a moment before throwing her arms around Atton's neck and hugging him tightly.

"Be safe," she whispered.

"Whenever was I not?" he answered with a small smirk. "Not . . . not counting various exploits in my younger days."

Metarie tried to smile, but she couldn't help but remember the night Atton had met Trandor Vinn for the first time. It was not a pretty picture to recall, and she certainly did not like it. After a moment, she released him and nodded toward where Jardin stood by the loading ramp.

"You'd better go," she said. "Hawk needs you."

Atton smiled and turned to leave, Dustil at his side, as HK-47 strode up alongside them. He drummed his fingers on the barrel of his rifle, cocking his triangular head from side to side.

"Statement: Oh, did you _honestly_ think you could leave me behind? I should certainly hope not; not when there are meatbags to be terminated!"

Jardin, Dustil, and Atton exchanged a brief glance that seemingly questioned the wisdom in allowing a homicidal droid such as HK to accompany them. Of course, he would be an extra blaster on their side during the raid on Vinn's hideout, and they could use all the help they could get. Jardin looked at HK and nodded.

"Okay, HK, you can come."

Had the droid been programmed to be capable of grinning with glee, he probably would have at the prospect of cracking a few "inferior meatbag skulls," as he called them. But HK-47 was the only member of the little band that was excited over the confrontation that undoubtedly awaited them at Vinn's headquarters. Atton was solemn, Jardin was as angry as he'd ever been, and Dustil just wanted his little sister to be all right. Canderous stayed behind to watch for their return and guard the ship against assailants. Besides, he claimed he was "too frackin' old," as he put it, to go on escapades. And so, it was unbelievably quiet as Atton led the group down the streets of Nar Shaddaa.

As they walked along, Jardin found himself wondering how Atton knew exactly which side streets and back alleys to take. It seemed as though he knew the way to Vinn's place by heart, and for the first time, Jardin wondered if this had anything to do with the slight limp in Atton's right leg. It wasn't an incredibly obvious limp, but it was there. At times, it appeared as though it pained Atton greatly, but if it did, he never showed it. Ever since Jardin had awakened in the Rands' apartment, he'd known Atton to be good-natured and full of wisecracks, so it was odd to see him striding somberly along in front of the group. As curiosity overwhelmed him, Jardin picked up his pace a bit and moved to Atton's side.

"How come you know where to lead us?" he asked.

Atton looked over at him and didn't say anything at first. He pursed his lips and sighed, turning his eyes toward the area of the street before him. They kept walking for another minute before he answered.

"Long story, not enough time," he said simply.

"I didn't want to hear the story, anyway," Jardin replied with a slight roll of his eyes. "I just want to know how _you_ know where Vinn lives."

Atton cracked a small grin and shook his head as he reached over to pat Jardin's shoulder.

"Jardin, you don't live here for as many years as I have without learning where the local crime bosses make their homes. They don't keep it a secret, you know. It's like they want somebody to arrange an assault on their compounds so they can show off just how accurate their snipers can be."

"Y'think there'll be snipers this time?"

"Nah," Atton answered. "I think Vinn's waiting for us. For me."

Even though curiosity tugged at him again, Jardin refrained from pressing the matter further. He simply shut his mouth and followed Atton, cautiously glancing around to be sure there was no one behind him apart from Dustil and HK-47. It wasn't too long after one of these careful checks of the area that the group arrived at a doorway barred by a heavy iron gate. The odd thing about the gate, however, was that when Atton and Jardin reached up to try the lock, it just swung open. Nervous glances were exchanged among the three, but HK merely stood obliviously by.

"Would you say they're expecting company?" Dustil asked, his voice low.

"Well, if they are," Atton quipped, "I hope they're providing refreshments. And would you say it's informal attire?"

Atton chuckled at his own joke, but Jardin made no reply. His eyes narrowed into thin slits again as he slipped his blaster from the holster at his hip. Dustil noticed the way that the boy anxiously tapped his fingers on the weapon's stock, and he reached out to grasp his shoulder encouragingly. Jardin turned and smiled faintly, unable to think of anything except getting inside and rescuing Hawk. Because of this, he was the first one to brashly walk through Trandor Vinn's front gate. He half-expected to hear a gunshot and find himself falling, but there was nothing except the deadly silence of the dark hallway and the soft trampling of his comrades' feet on the cold stone floor. They barely breathed, still expecting to find themselves walking into either a booby trap or an ambush by trained sniper rifle specialists. Nothing.

"Trandor's obviously got his men on orders to hold fire," Atton whispered in the darkness. Jardin could hear him carefully cock his blaster pistol. "This isn't good. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You're not the only one," Dustil and Jardin answered simultaneously.

"Statement: This is quite a letdown, you know," HK-47 interjected suddenly. "I was hoping to be faced with a firefight shortly after entering these premises."

No one replied, for at that moment, a lone guard scurried across their path. HK, anxious to spill a little blood, fired hastily. The guard dropped, having been killed instantly, and the droid chuckled evilly as the group continued on their trek through the dark underbelly of Vinn's headquarters. The clanking of his gears echoed quite loudly through the corridors, as did what sounded like a deep sigh of satisfaction that escaped him.

"Smug Statement: Ooh, what fun."


	29. Vinn's Attack

**********Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine – Vinn's Attack**

The Sith master crumpled to his knees at Trandor Vinn's feet, lowering himself to a position of utmost shame as he seemed to beg for his life. Vinn stood over him, his hands resting on his hips, as he glared angrily at the Sith and impatiently tapped his foot on the rough, cold stone floor.

"Forgive me," the Sith whispered. "I have . . . failed. The girl . . . She is too strong. Her control over her mind is unmatchable. I could not get inside."

"You incompetent fool!" Vinn spat. "You call yourself a Sith, yet you lack even the power to manipulate a teenage girl's mind! That should have been _no_ challenge for you!"

"She kept throwing up walls," the Sith protested. "Every time I figured out a way around one, she'd put up another. One minute, she was playing cards in her head, and the next, she was reciting passages from a book while scattering hyperspace coordinates throughout the words. It was incredible. I've never seen anyone maintain such control on their mind before!"

"_I_ have," Vinn snarled as he pushed past the Sith. "Get out of my sight, 'Sith.' Don't you _ever_ return before me! And as for the girl . . . I will just have to take care of her myself. I should have saved myself all this trouble and just broken her this way to begin with!"

Subtly waving his hand, Vinn called a half dozen of his best henchmen to his side as he marched to the prison. When he arrived, he shouldered open the massive iron door and strode into the prison. He found Hawk again confined within a force cage, and he walked up to it. Coming to a halt, he crossed his arms and studied Hawk's defiant posture.

"I've been told that you outsmarted my Sith interrogator."

"Yeah, that's right," Hawk retorted with an angry toss of her jet-black hair. "Somebody should tell him to keep out of other peoples' heads!"

"Fiery as always," Vinn chuckled. He reached over, switched off the force cage, and smiled at the bewildered expression that crossed Hawk's face. "You may have outsmarted that poor excuse for a Dark Sider, but you will never be able to outsmart _me_."

He advanced slowly upon her, and Hawk dodged to one side as she noticed the lustful look in his hideous dark gray eyes. Her attempt to escape Vinn failed, however, as one of his guards grabbed her brutally by the arm and shoved her back to the bounty hunter crime lord. Vinn clutched her tightly, pulling her into himself and kissing her deeply and passionately. Hawk struggled to get free of his horrible grasp as his hands went for her jacket to seductively pull it off.

"Let me go!" she cried, fear thick in her voice. She fought the constraints of his awful arms, thrashing as hard as she could. "Let go of me!!"

"You think you can get away, Hawk?" Vinn whispered silkily at her ear. "No. I'll have you first. I'll break you the same way I've broken every other girl I've captured. Experience shows that_ this_ is the quickest and easiest way to shatter your spirit."

Hawk screamed in terror as he kissed her again while slipping her jacket from her back and tossing it aside. She loathed the feeling of his dry, rough lips wandering across her face, and she was nearly paralyzed with fear of what he was planning to do to her. But she still had enough presence of mind to reach up and try to smack him across the face. She almost succeeded, but Vinn saw her attack coming, and he grabbed her left wrist in his cold, hard grip. Hawk whimpered in agony as he twisted it slowly, and she nearly vomited as she heard and felt the bones cracking. With one quick movement, Vinn finished off that torturous act and snapped her wrist. Hawk crumpled to her knees, sobbing in agony and clutching her hand. She pressed it against her stomach, trying to dull the excruciating pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Vinn strode up beside her and jerked her to her feet. Chuckling heartlessly, he pressed her back against the wall as his guards stood by laughing. After allowing himself to press tightly against her, he brazenly kissed the side of her neck. Despite the unbearable pain of her broken wrist and the horrible feeling of having Trandor Vinn's body pressing into hers, Hawk managed to twist her head slightly and sink her teeth quite hard into his neck. Vinn yelped in pain and leaped backward, clutching the side of his neck. Hawk had bitten him hard enough to draw blood, and it trickled through his fingers and down the length of his arm.

"_You little schutta_," he growled as he advanced on her again. "If you had been trying to cut the jugular, you failed. You merely broke the skin, so if you thought to kill me by biting through that vein, you thought _wrong_!"

He grabbed her without thought to the pain in her wrist and pressed her to the wall again. He had already decided that violating her should be as drawn out and miserable for her as he could possibly make it. So he slowly, mercilessly, began to grope at her. Hawk struggled to free herself from his awful touch, but she couldn't. Her heart pounded within her, slamming against her chest wall with a deafening _thuh-dump_, as she realized that there was no escape. Fear welled in her, reaching out its steel fingers to choke her with terror. There was the horrible realization that she could do nothing. She was a prisoner to Vinn's vile desires. There was a guard on either side, holding her hands clamped to the wall to keep her from moving while Vinn made his advances. His touch was unbearable, and Hawk could do nothing except cry with fear and pain. But then, suddenly, a familiar voice echoed from the doorway.

"_Let her go, Vinn!_"

Vinn spun around, and four blasters and one blaster rifle whirred to the ready, all pointed at his head. His guards immediately released their hold on Hawk's wrists, and she crumpled to the floor. It only took a moment for her to recognize her rescuers as she scrambled to her feet and raced to them. Jardin opened his one free arm to her, and she raced into it, sobbing hysterically. Gently, he enclosed her in a protective embrace as Dustil leaned over his terrified sister.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, compassionately touching her shoulder.

"M—my wrist's broken," she sputtered. "And he tried to . . . tried to . . ."

She couldn't finish her sentence as tears streamed down her face again and she wept into Jardin's shoulder. Jardin holstered his blaster and just held her, trying to comfort her despite knowing it would be fairly impossible because of the horrendous experience she had almost been forced to undergo. Atton and HK-47 remained stationary, the human holding his blasters poised to fire and the droid systematically blowing out Vinn's henchmen's kneecaps until only Vinn was left standing.

"_You_ again!" Vinn shouted at Atton.

"Yeah, _me_ again!" Atton shouted back. "Just _what_ did you think you would accomplish by raping her, Trandor? And I mean, _not_ counting the fulfillment of your perverted fantasies."

"That is _none_ of your concern, Rand!" Vinn spat hotly. "She is _mine_."

"Sorry, but that just ain't so," Atton rebutted. He turned to Jardin and Dustil and lowered his voice to a shade above a whisper. "Get her back to the ship. Get her calmed down, cleaned up, and see if Metarie can heal her hand. HK, go with them in case any more of this dirtbag's goons show up."

"Contradiction: I believe the proper term is _meat_bag, not _dirt_bag. Resigned Statement: But I will do as you ask even though it unfortunately requires missing out on terminating this bounty hunter _meatbag_ scum."

With that, the group turned and helped Hawk back toward the safety of the _Ebon Hawk_, leaving Atton alone with Vinn. The two stared long and hard at each other for several seemingly endless seconds. Had there been a clock in the prison, every second probably would have counted down with thunderous booms. Finally, Vinn spoke, and his voice was low and dark.

"So, we meet again, _Jaq_."

It was all Atton could do to keep from shooting Vinn right then and there, but he managed to restrain himself. He gave only a roll of his eyes.

"I'm surprised you even have the guts to stand up to me," Vinn continued, "especially considering what happened the _last_ time we met . . ."

"That was fifteen years ago, Trandor," Atton answered.

"Oh, I know, but I still think I should collect that little bounty on your head."

"Oh, right, the bounty that _you_ imposed. The bounty that _you_ put on my head." Atton sighed briefly. "Jaq Rand is dead, Vinn. He died over eighteen years ago. You know that."

"The name might have died," Vinn retorted, "but the man still lives. And since I see him standing right in front of me, I might as well just finish what began fifteen years ago today."

"Ah, an anniversary! How exciting," Atton deadpanned. "You tried to kill me fifteen years ago, Trandor. Nearly succeeded, too. Blew out my leg and left me lying in a back alley on this frackin' moon with a gaping, bleeding hole in my stomach, remember?"

"Oh, clearly. As I recall, you somehow managed to pull yourself together just enough to get home to your precious wife. You had only enough strength to make it to the doorstep before collapsing, or so my men told me. Then, not more than two weeks later, you packed up everything and moved your beloved little family to hide on Telos."

"And I moved back here last year to finish you, Vinn," Atton snarled. "I'm not gonna let you hurt one more person in this galaxy."

"Well, look at you," Vinn mocked. "Playing the hero again, are we? Very well. I'll humor you, _Jaq_. We'll do this the way it was fifteen years ago."

It was the shortest shootout on record, but it was perhaps the most emotionally trying. Vinn quickly drew his blaster, but Atton was waiting for him. He unloaded a couple of blaster shots into Vinn's chest, but as the bounty hunter fell, he blew a hole through Atton's shoulder. Atton twisted, tightly squeezing his injured shoulder as Vinn collapsed to the floor of the cell. Everything went quiet, and Atton looked up to see where Trandor lay. The crime lord wasn't moving, but Atton nevertheless drew his blaster and blew a hole through Vinn's thigh.

"That one's for _my_ leg," he muttered under his breath as he turned and stormed from the prison. "Never again, Trandor. Never again."


	30. Encounter with the Sojourn

**************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****

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**Chapter Thirty – Encounter with the **_**Sojourn**_

When Atton finally returned to the _Ebon Hawk_ from Vinn's lair, Metarie was waiting beside the loading ramp for him. Even from a distance, he could tell that she was pacing and wringing her hands as she often did when she was worried, and he couldn't help but smile. Her normally neat brown hair was tousled and a few loose strands hung lightly around her face. As Atton approached, she turned and when she saw him, she raced to his side.

"Oh, Atton," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. It was then that she noticed the blood leaking from his shoulder. "You're hurt!"

"Not too badly," he answered with a slow shake of his head. His eyes turned toward the ship. "How's Hawk?"

Metarie sighed and looked to the _Hawk_ for a minute. Her eyes roved across the ship as she rested her head against Atton's chest. After a few minutes, she looked up at him.

"She's asleep. Jardin's been sitting with her for the past while," she said finally. "The poor thing was trying so hard to be brave, but I could tell she just wanted to cry. Her wrist is all right even though I had to use the Force to heal it. But the poor darling was so traumatized that I had to sedate her in order to get her to fall asleep. What did Vinn do to her?"

"I'm not entirely sure you want to know, Met."

"Oh, no," Metarie gasped, realization dawning on her face. "He didn't . . . He didn't _ruin_ her, did he?"

"He tried. It was lucky we got there when we did. If we hadn't . . . I don't know what would have happened."

Metarie gently clasped her husband's arm as she gazed into his eyes.

"Will she recover?"

"I'm not sure. She may, since he didn't 'officially' violate her, but . . . She was in hysterics when we got there. It's gonna leave a sore spot, I'm sure."

"Poor baby," Metarie whispered with a motherly tone. She was silent for a minute before remembering Atton's injured shoulder. "Come on. Let's go get your shoulder patched."

The two of the headed into the _Ebon Hawk_, and no sooner had they stepped into the ship's interior than the loading ramp retracted behind them. They exchanged a brief glance as Jardin suddenly appeared from the main hold.

"It's Hawk's doing," he explained quickly. "She was sound asleep, but then she just sat bolt upright and started telling me how we had to get out of here if we were gonna avoid getting caught."

"What?" Metarie asked. "Where is she?"

"In the cockpit; where else? She's prepping the ship for takeoff, says she wants to be out of here in five minutes. We were waiting for you."

"But why does she want to get lost so quickly?" Atton questioned.

Jardin pointed toward a nearby window, and Atton and Metarie stole a quick glance outside. There was a lone Republic capital ship looming in the skies above Nar Shaddaa's surface. Metarie gasped as she recognized the ship as the _Sojourn_, and she turned to race to the cockpit to try to stop Hawk, but Jardin grabbed her arm before she could get there.

"Don't do it," he warned. "Whatever she's running from, she's got her reasons."

"But _that's_ her _father_!" Metarie cried. "He's got to be worried sick about her!"

"Her actual father?" Jardin lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes! Admiral Carth Onasi is Hawk's father!"

Jardin's jaw dropped with surprise, and his eyes widened so that they looked like very large, green saucers.

"You've gotta be kidding me! Her dad is the guy in charge of the entire Republic fleet? The whole _entire_ fleet?! _He's_ the guy she was crying over on Tatooine?!"

"_YES!!_"

At that moment, Hawk appeared at the end of the ramp that led to the cockpit. She gave Metarie and Atton a small smile as she leaned out into the main hold, gripping the doorway with both hands.

"Glad to see you back," she said hastily. "I was afraid you wouldn't make it. Now grab onto something and hold on tight because we're gonna be burnin' sky 'til we see lines, got it? Good."

"But Hawk, why—" Metarie and Jardin began.

"No time for questions!" she snapped, a bit of her father shining through. "Just sit down, shut up, and hang on!"

With that, she wheeled around and raced back into the cockpit, and the next second, the _Ebon Hawk_ took off from the landing pad with a rather jarring lurch. Hawk blasted off, full-throttle, as she headed for Nar Shaddaa's outer atmosphere and hyperspace. Unknowingly, or perhaps purposefully, she drifted incredibly close to the _Sojourn_ before shooting off in the opposite direction.

·

On the bridge of the _Sojourn_ stood Carth and Revan, anxiously reading over lists of planetary arrivals and departures from various worlds. They were oblivious as Hawk flew right past their window, but the young lieutenant in charge wasn't.

"Admiral, look!" he cried as he pointed toward the bridge window.

Carth spun around in time to see the _Hawk_ pull a vertical roll and blast off toward space. His heart raced with excitement of finally catching up with Hawk, and he turned quickly to the lieutenant.

"Get a tractor beam on that ship, Lieutenant!" he cried.

"We can't, sir," the lieutenant replied with a sad shake of his head. "The _Ebon Hawk_ is too far out of range."

"Well, close the gap!" came Carth's anxious answer. "I won't lose her again!"

Carth's attention was diverted when Revan gently laid a hand on his arm and pointed toward the window. His eyes darted across the width of the window and eventually found where the little ship sat almost stationary. But suddenly, before he could lift a finger or utter a word, the _Ebon Hawk_ shot off like a bullet and disappeared. He raced to the window and pressed his hands to the transparisteel.

"No . . ." he whispered, not believing what he'd just witnessed. "_No!_"

"They made the hyperspace jump, sir," the lieutenant stated. "Do you want us to pursue?"

Carth turned to Revan and studied her deep blue eyes when he felt her touch on his shoulder. Those eyes were so filled with the pain and anguish of worrying over Hawk's well-being, and now they seemed as if they were so full of tears that they would overflow at any minute. Revan forced a smile, but it was almost too small to be noticed. It was as if she had been trying to cheer herself, but she was obviously failing miserably.

"She was full-throttling away from us," she said quietly. "She doesn't want us to find her. Maybe it's time we . . . let her go."

"I _can't_!" Carth protested, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. "I can't lose my _daughter_! Not my baby girl . . ."

Revan reached up and tenderly brushed her fingers through his soft, thick hair. The hair at his temples had been its usual rich, dark brown only a few weeks prior; now a few strands were gradually turning silver. She knew the cause was the strain of Hawk's disappearance, and the tears that had been waiting to gush from her eyes and down her face finally did. The way she stroked his hair became more desperate, almost as if she was trying to keep from collapsing.

"I know, Carth," she whispered, her voice breaking, "Force knows that I know. She just doesn't want to come home, and as much as it breaks my heart to say it, we . . . we have to let her go."

Tears poured from Carth's whiskey-brown eyes as he nodded reluctantly. He slowly turned to the lieutenant and uttered the five most difficult words he'd ever had to speak, gripping Revan's shoulder for support as he took a deep breath.

"Lieutenant, set course for Coruscant."

He strode off toward his quarters, not waiting even for Revan to follow. He thought he could make it there before he simply broke down, but he couldn't. He didn't even make it out the door of the bridge before he cracked. His entire body trembled as he wept, and he pressed his head against the wall, pounding at the wall with his fist as Revan approached him and tenderly squeezed his shoulder. He turned to her, and she threw herself into his arms, staining the front of his hunter green uniform with her anguished tears. For the longest fifteen minutes of their lives, they just _cried_.


	31. Jardin's Revelation

**************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._**

**************PS: More _Jorad_ is coming soon if any of those readers see this. Don't lose hope yet! Besides, I did update a while back and got only one reply, so I must've lost some readers somwhere...

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**Chapter Thirty-One - Jardin's Revelation**

Hawk found herself finally free. She should have been giddy with joy, but instead there was an odd sensation of unhappiness. Whatever emotional wounds that had healed during her short stay in the Dantooine gardens were breaking open and bleeding again, but it wasn't because of what Trandor Vinn had tried to do. She could feel a strange, stabbing pain in her chest, but it wasn't anything physical. No sooner had she blasted off into hyperspace than she first began feeling that pain, and she knew that it undoubtedly emanated from her parents' hearts. Suddenly, she was miserable again, and she was back at square one. She was back to the place she'd been a few weeks prior, and her close call at Vinn's hands quickly faded from her mind as she found herself overwhelmed with sorrow and guilt. She knew that she was responsible for causing her parents' pain, and she hated herself for it.

"_I have to get back somehow,"_ she thought as a tear rolled down her cheek. _"Somehow, I've got to make it up to them for this."_

At the moment, however, she only felt like crying, so she folded her arms across the control panel and pressed her forehead to them. Within a few seconds, she was practically swimming in her tears. She was so heartbroken that she didn't hear Jardin sneak up behind her. The only indication of his arrival was the way he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gently hugged her. Sniffling, Hawk sat up and turned to look at him.

"Hi, Jardin," she said quietly, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Hi. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

Jardin brushed away a teardrop from her cheek and forced a small smile of sympathy as he cradled her chin in his hand.

"Are these because of Vinn?" he asked, indicating her tears.

"No," Hawk answered with a shake of her head. "They're because of _me_. My parents were on that Republic ship back there, Jar, but I ran anyway. I should have gone back to them, but I was too stupid to do it!"

She just barely climbed out of the pilot's chair before she burst into tears again. Jardin carefully collected her into his arms and embraced her, trying to soothe her. He didn't say a word; he merely hugged her tightly.

"I told you I was running," Hawk continued, "but I never told you why. It's because of a mask I found in our basement back home. The mask belonged to Darth Revan, and I found a diary that revealed to me that my mom used to _be_ Darth Revan. And I couldn't handle it. You have no idea what it's like to live your entire life believing a lie . . . You have no idea what it's like to find out that the very person you've been reading about in the history texts is your own _mother_."

She looked up into Jardin's eyes, expecting to see some measure of understandable shock, but there was nothing. He just watched her calmly, no emotion except sympathy on his strong, youthfully handsome features. He kept holding her hand, and she arched an eyebrow at him.

"Aren't you surprised?" she whispered.

"Metarie already told me," Jardin replied. "I didn't want to tell you that I knew."

"I wish you had!" Hawk cried. "Do you hate me for it?"

"Of course not," Jardin answered, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. Heck, I can't even hate your _mom_ for it, because that was years ago. I'm sure she's a perfectly wonderful mother."

"Oh, she is," Hawk said with a smile. "She bakes cakes and cookies all the time, at least weekly. Dad and I are practically sugar addicts because of it, but we don't mind. She gave me all my schooling, and she's always been there to patch up my scraped knees. But the best part of it all is when she calls me 'baby.'"

Hawk started to grin wider, but she stopped suddenly when she saw a look of dark despair shadow Jardin's normally happy face. She reached up and gripped his shoulder, searching his eyes concernedly.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"My mom used to be like that," he answered dolefully, "but that was before my father died. After Father died, my uncle was bound by law to marry her, but he didn't stop there. He _hurt_ her. He forced her to do things she didn't want to do because my uncle always had a perverted mind when it came to Mom. I guess, for her, it was almost like being married to Trandor Vinn. What he tried to do to you, my uncle did to my mother on a daily basis. He was cruel to her, and I couldn't ever stop him, no matter how badly I wanted to."

"Jardin, I'm . . . I'm sorry," Hawk replied quietly as he turned from her and sat down heavily in the co-pilot's chair. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Mom never would have had to suffer like that if it hadn't been for me."

"What are you talking about? You said your father died. That's a natural part of life. How are you responsible for that?"

"Because—" Jardin began, but broke off quickly. He looked the other way and ran a hand through his thick blond hair. When he spoke again, his voice was low and full of pain. "It was a dark night back home. Father was out in the garage working on our family's airspeeder, and I went to talk to him. I'm not even sure what happened because it was all a huge blur, but I remember picking myself up off the ground and finding Father dead not too far from me. He'd been murdered because I saw at least ten stab wounds on him, and I ran for help. When the authorities came, my uncle was at the scene first. He said he'd found the knife nearby, and that it was mine."

"Was it?" Hawk asked breathlessly.

"Yes," Jardin replied slowly. "It was. It was covered in Father's blood, and when the police questioned me, they found his blood all over my hands."

He turned and gazed at Hawk, who was sitting there with a look of shock on her face. Her eyes were wide, and one hand covered her even wider mouth. Earnestly, he reached over and grabbed her other hand, squeezing it so tightly she feared he'd break it.

"I didn't kill him, Hawk!" he cried, his eyes imploring. "I don't even remember being conscious. I think somebody knocked me out and then killed Father on their own. I think somebody framed me. But I didn't do it! They said I did, but I didn't! I've never been so stupid as to kill my own _father_, even if I don't remember what happened! Please, Hawk, you've gotta believe me!"

Hawk was silent for a few moments as she studied him, unable to speak or even to properly breathe. Part of her yearned to believe him, but another part warned her against trusting too easily. What if he was lying? It was unlikely that he was, but then again, she had no real way of knowing. Sighing heavily, she stared into his eyes and found a look of pleading innocence in them. She prayed that what he was saying was the truth and what she was about to say was the right thing before she slowly nodded.

"I _do_ believe you, Jardin," she whispered. "Is that why you were on Nar Shaddaa?"

"Y—yes. I fled Alderaan before the police could throw me in jail. I was only twelve, but I figured I'd rather face the galaxy than spend my life in 'juvenile detention,' as they call it there. I didn't even get to tell my mother good-bye. I didn't get to hug her, and I didn't get to take her famous oatmeal cookies with me."

"You didn't have to tell me any of this," she said quietly, reaching over and squeezing his hand. "Why did you?"

"Because . . . Because you're the only one my age on this ship who's able to understand running. You're the only one who knows what it feels like to constantly be covering your tracks and looking over your shoulder. Hawk, I had to live like a criminal for four years before you showed up in that cantina and brought me with you. I guess I owe you for that."

"You owe me nothing," Hawk replied, offering a faint smile of support and perhaps a hint of affection. "But, if you don't mind my asking . . . What happened with your uncle?"

"Oh, yeah, my uncle. He was the one who tried to have me imprisoned. He never liked me, and even less so after he married Mom. He didn't like me because I'd show up unexpectedly whenever he was trying to force himself on her, and I had a habit of screaming for him to let her go. I can't help but feel that maybe he killed Father and tried to pin it on me, but that may just be my little biased self talking again."

He turned to Hawk and gave his cute little grin. His eyes squinted rather roguishly, and he looked quite charming. Hawk felt a subtle shiver run down her spine.

"Well, that's my sob story. I don't know if you care or not, but I guess I feel a little better now that I've told somebody other than a pillow."

"I'm glad you did," Hawk replied with a smile of her own. "I have somebody other than myself to feel sorry for, now, I guess."

Jardin laughed and leaned over to plant a light kiss on her forehead. Hawk found that she didn't feel as uncomfortable with it as she thought she would have after Vinn's attempted attack. Instead, she found herself closing her eyes contentedly. She opened them again when Jardin got her attention with a low clearing of his throat.

"So, uh, where're we going now?" he asked, glancing around the cockpit.

Hawk turned and looked at the navicomputer.

"Telos," she answered simply. "I'd like to visit the beach. Dad used to take Mom and me there every summer on vacation, and I kind of miss it."

"Mm, the beach," Jardin smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Sounds like fun. I hope I packed my swim trunks."


	32. Telos

**************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Two - Telos**

The _Ebon Hawk_'s first destination after arriving on Telos was the docking bays of Citadel Station. Hawk had decided to make the space station a home base of sorts and take shuttles to and from the surface. Citadel appeared to Hawk as it always had during her previous summer visits to the planet's white sand beaches: somewhat industrial, but still comfortable to those who occupied it. She had no sooner stepped off her ship's loading ramp than a warm feeling of comfort flooded her, and she closed her eyes with a smile. She'd always felt at home on Telos, whether it was a genetic preference passed down to her by Carth, or something brought about by close association with the world. Telos always gave her a wonderful sensation of being somewhere safe, where nothing bad could happen to anyone ever again.

As she slowly advanced down the _Ebon Hawk_'s loading ramp with the rest of her friends behind her, she took a minute to let her eyes wander over the familiar terrain of the docking bay. She recognized this particular bay as being the one in which Carth had always parked the _Hawk_ during their family vacations here. She stopped for a moment, and Jardin spoke from behind.

"_This_ is Telos?" he asked. "Doesn't look like much."

"Oh, but you haven't seen the surface," Hawk replied, a tone of deep affection for the planet in her voice. "It's been undergoing heavy restoration for the past twenty years or so, and it's absolutely beautiful."

She turned to make sure everyone was with her before continuing into Citadel's corridors. Even Travis was wide-eyed and alert. This was his first trip outside the _Ebon Hawk_ since his injury, and he seemed more than grateful to finally be on his feet again.

"Travis, are you _sure_ you're okay?" Hawk asked concernedly.

"Just fine," he answered with a grin. "I'm not even sore anymore! Thanks for asking, though."

Nodding with satisfaction, Hawk started off again, walking through a nearby door and into Citadel's well-lit hallways. Once inside, there was no end to the possibilities for fun. Within a few minutes, a plan had been devised that left Atton and Metarie in charge of renting an apartment for temporary use while they planned trip to the surface. While that was taking place, Hawk, Jardin, and Travis headed out to explore the station. Hawk could tell just by looking at Jardin that he was anxious to find a decent pazaak match, so she decided to humor him.

"First stop, the cantina," she announced as soon as she and the boys were alone.

"Uh, Hawk?" Travis questioned. "Are you sure that's smart?"

"Just 'cause we're going into a cantina doesn't mean we're gonna be drinking," Hawk smiled. "Jardin and I just wouldn't mind playing some cards for a while."

"Well . . . All right," Travis finally conceded with a shrug. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, though. I won't let you get kidnapped again."

Hawk turned so Travis wouldn't see her roll her eyes. As much as she appreciated his dedication to protecting her, she honestly thought he was carrying it too far. Nevertheless, she turned to face him again and grinned.

"Have it your way. Now c'mon."

The trio headed down the halls toward the Entertainment Module in search of that cantina. An occasional glance at Jardin told Hawk that he was practically drooling with the anticipation of wielding his card deck, and she couldn't help but smile.

·

It wasn't too long after they entered the Entertainment Module that the group walked through the door of the cantina. Upon entering, Hawk expected every eye in the place to turn and stare at the three teenagers who'd just wandered into the cantina, but to her surprise, no one even acknowledged their existence. Hawk wasn't sure whether to be grateful that they went unnoticed or angered that adults had no more concern than that for teenagers.

Grabbing Jardin by the arm, she started leading him into the next room to the pazaak tables, but Jardin balked. Something had caught his eye, and when Hawk turned to ask what was wrong, she found his gaze fixated on someone leaning against the bar. Her eyes followed his gaze and eventually landed on a tall man of perhaps fifty years with graying red hair and eagle-like gray-green eyes. He had a small shot glass in his right hand from which he occasionally took a sip. Hawk turned back to Jardin and found that the boy was breathing heavily. His eyes had narrowed, and his fists were clenched at his sides.

"Jardin," Hawk whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Do you know who that is?" Jardin asked, his eyes never leaving the figure.

"No. Who is it?"

"_That's_ my uncle."

Hawk stole another glance at the man whose very presence had caused Jardin great distress. She tried to reach out and protectively clutch his arm, but he pulled away and stormed to the man's side.

"Uncle Vladimir," he said in a low tone.

This drew the man's attention, and Vladimir Elgon turned to see the boy.

"Weeellll . . ." he drawled. "Nice to see you again, Jard'n. I find it strange that you showed up on a decent, civilized planet again."

"What are you doing here, Uncle?" Jardin snarled. "I thought you'd be at home trying to rape Mom."

"Now, Jard'n, is that any way to talk to your uncle whom you haven't seen in four years?"

"_Yes_."

"My, what did I ever do to earn that kind of talk from you, young man?"

"You forced your way into my home to steal my mother while she was still grieving for my father!"

"It was the law, son. It's time you accepted that," Vladimir growled, turning back to his drink and swirling the dark brown liquid around in the bottom of the glass.

"I'll _never_ accept the fact that Mom broke down crying every time she saw you coming up the front walk! I'll _never_ forgive you for hurting her the way you did, and if I ever go back to Alderaan, I _swear_ I'll get her away from you!"

"No need for that, Jard'n," Vladimir responded gruffly. "Your mother's dead."

Jardin gripped the edge of the bar for support as he grappled with the sudden news of his mother's death. For a moment, he thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but he knew they weren't. His eyes flashed angrily as he clenched his left fist. He didn't even notice as Hawk slid up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What did you do to her?!" Jardin spat, trembling with rage. "As if you weren't hurting her enough, you waited until I was gone to make everything worse! And now she's _dead_!"

"Yer mother was a weak one," Vladimir replied. "Her time was comin'. Besides, it wasn't anything I did. It was what _you_ did."

"You're gonna regret this, you son of a—!"

Suddenly, Hawk tightly grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the bar. As she took him aside, she saw that he was shaking. He was shaking uncontrollably with a combination of rampaging anger and overwhelming grief. Hawk reached up and cupped his jaw in her hand as she quietly searched his eyes. Jardin kept throwing hateful glances back at his uncle, who still stood casually by the bar with his drink.

"He killed her," he said in a hoarse whisper. "My mother's _dead_ because of _him_!"

"Shh, Jar," Hawk soothed. "Shh. It's okay."

"No, it's _not_ okay!" Jardin cried, his bottom lip quivering noticeably. "I never even got to say good-bye. I never even got to tell her I loved her!"

Jardin tried to restrain his emotions, but he failed. Hawk was there with her arms around his neck when the tears finally came. She'd never seen a male cry before, but somehow she didn't feel strange to be the one catching Jardin's tears. She cradled him gently, holding his head against her shoulder as he wept for several minutes. She said nothing, for she knew that words could never suffice to comfort him. She just held him as he'd often held her during her own moments of crisis.

After a short while, Jardin pulled away and dried his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. When Hawk touched his shoulder to question if he was all right, he nodded and forced a tiny smile. He turned, took a glance at his uncle, and took a deep breath before striding to Vladimir's side.

"Had enough of a bawl with your girlfriend, didja?" Vladimir mocked.

Jardin took a breath and collected himself, struggling to keep himself in check lest he make a violent lunge at his uncle's throat.

"Uncle, I want you to get out of here. I want you to get out of this cantina, off Citadel Station, and off Telos. I never want to see your ugly face again."

"Oh-h?" Vladimir turned slowly and leaned sideways against the bar. "And why's that?"

"Because you killed my mother, and you tried to have me imprisoned for a crime I _never_ committed."

"Which would be killing your father. Yeah, that one was a shame. To see such a fine, promising lad as yourself get his future ruined . . . Well, it broke my heart."

"I don't think anything could ever break _your_ heart, Uncle. But I never killed Father. I don't know who did, or why, but I know I was knocked out right as Father was murdered."

"Well, that's odd, because the authorities said they found your knife in your hand, covered in your father's blood. They also found it odd that you chose to use your favorite knife as a weapon when it was so very valuable.

"They never found it in my hand!" Jardin gasped. "As I recall, _you_ gave it to them, saying you'd found it on the ground! And how did they know that it was my favorite knife? The only ones who knew that were Mom, Father, and—"

He gasped again as realization dawned on him, and a few seconds later, his expression made a complete change from grief over his mother's death to a fit of rage. Without further thought, he thrust his index finger into Vladimir's face.

"_You_ were the only other one! _You_ killed Father!" he cried. "How else would you have known the knife was my favorite unless you stole it and used it to frame me?!"

"Now, Jard'n," Vladimir sputtered, backing away from the bar as Jardin advanced on him. He seemed terrified of his nephew, and his face was as white as a sheet. "You wouldn't think such things about your uncle, would you?"

"_Try me!_" Jardin hissed. "You killed Father so you could have Mom! You killed him because you knew that Alderaan's _di'kutla_ law would protect you and allow you to live out your sick, sick fantasies on her! How _dare_ you! You deserve the name 'son of a schutta' more than anyone I've ever met!"

The boy still advanced upon his uncle, hatred boiling in his eyes. Hawk even tried to hold him back, but she failed. His anger was too powerful. Jardin eventually stopped and stood still as Vladimir backed up against a wall. All eyes in the cantina turned to watch the dramatic scene unfold, and the room fell silent as the band stopped playing.

"N-now, son," Vladimir stuttered, lifting his hands in self-defense. "L-let me explain, huh? I had good reasons for doing it!"

"There's never a good reason for murder," Hawk interjected quietly.

"Yeah, well, you could at least let me try to explain! Please? Your father wasn't the man for her!"

"You lie!" Jardin snapped. "You weren't an improvement! You only made her life a living hell! And don't try to excuse yourself by claiming good intentions, Uncle. There were _never_ good intentions in your head when it came to my mother!"

What happened then happened incredibly quickly. Jardin had his eye on his uncle's right hand, and when Vladimir reached into the inside of his cloak, he was ready. No sooner had Vladimir whipped out a blaster to permanently silence the boy than Jardin was waiting with his own blaster. The two only exchanged two shots: one from Vladimir that missed Jardin and hit the wall, and one from Jardin that went right through his uncle's heart. The treacherous, conniving man slumped to the floor in a lifeless heap, and Jardin's breathing relaxed. Hawk rushed to his side and threw herself into his arms as the cantina patrons resumed their activities. He hugged her with one arm as he stared at his uncle's corpse, and he whispered a few simple words.

"Rest in peace, Mom."


	33. An Unexpected Meeting

**************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Three - An Unexpected Meeting**

The short walk back to the apartment where Atton and Metarie were waiting was a quiet one. None of them could say a word, since the scene at the cantina was still quite fresh in their young minds. Jardin was the quietest of them all, with good reason, and Hawk could not help but sympathize with him. Slowly, she slid her hand into his and intertwined her fingers with his, lightly squeezing them. As soon as she had, Jardin turned and stared at her. She just smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder, and he couldn't help but smile as well as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Travis just sighed dejectedly, but it was so silent that it went unnoticed.

There were no major happenings as they wound their way back through the halls of Citadel Station to the apartment that would be their home for the duration of their stay on Telos. There was no interesting conversation, nor were there any meetings with interesting people. It was just a simple little walk, but their arrival at the small apartment was welcomed by all.

As Travis and Jardin moved to enter the apartment, Hawk hesitated by the door. Jardin lifted his eyebrow, questioning if she was going to come inside and get some rest. Smiling faintly, she shook her head, and her bangs flopped to and fro across her forehead.

"I think I'll go for a stroll," she said. "I haven't been here in a while, and I'd like to look around."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Jardin asked quietly.

"No, that's all right," Hawk replied as a grateful grin twitched at her lips. She withdrew her hand from his, her fingers tenderly brushing across the smooth skin of his palm. "Thank you, though. I'll be fine."

With a silent nod, Jardin entered the apartment and shut the door behind himself, leaving Hawk on her own. With a deep breath, she started off at an easy pace back down the hall. She mostly wanted to do a little exploring, but she'd also figured that some time away from the others would do her well. She had a lot on her mind as she roamed the halls, and she tried to sort through it as best she could. It was hard to do, but eventually she reached a point where she decided that as soon as she paid a visit to the beach, she would turn the _Ebon Hawk_ toward Coruscant and home. That thought cheered her, and her steps quickened accordingly. But they only quickened for a moment as an eerie feeling crept over her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she mentally awakened to the knowledge that there was someone behind her. Hurriedly, she turned and stole a glance over her shoulder, thinking that perhaps Jardin had come with her after all, but she saw nothing. She hastily scanned the shadows, again seeing nothing, but the strange feeling grew even stronger. Her stomach flipped as she crossed to the opposite side of the hall and rushed back toward the apartment.

She was within ten feet of the apartment door and was already reaching for the "open" switch when she heard the sound of a blaster whirring to the ready behind her. Stiffening, she turned slowly, and when she had made a complete rotation, her eyes widened as she gasped, for standing there with a smug grin of victory on his face was . . .

_**TRANDOR VINN!**_

"Vinn!" she gasped, terror seizing her. She looked for a place to run but found that she had nowhere to go. "I don't believe this! You're dead!"

"I'm afraid not, my dear," Vinn chuckled. "Your friend Atton is a terrible shot when it comes to rapid firing. You should advise him to tighten up his skills with a blaster and warn him to shoot to kill and not to merely injure. It certainly would help him next time, but . . . I highly doubt that there will even _be_ a next time."

"Get out of here!" Hawk whispered, trembling visibly. "Get away from me!"

"Oh, no, dear Hawk," Vinn replied. "I have yet to see you crawl. I have yet to see you begging for your life at my feet. I would have succeeded, too, if your little friends had not shown up."

"But . . . how did you find me?"

"It's not that hard to track a ship such as yours. Besides, Telos was a logical choice, given the fact that you have Telosian blood flowing through your veins. And I want to see that blood spilled on the ground before me!"

"You're a sick, perverted man!" Hawk cried. "You'll never take me!"

"Am I? And _won't_ I?" Vinn sneered. "Well, if you won't come willingly, then I shall have to finish you here and now. I'm sorry it has to be this way."

He said not another word as he pointed his blaster at her and pulled the trigger. Hawk gasped in pain as she fell back against the wall and sank to the floor. A large red splotch appeared on the front of her shirt a few inches below her breastbone, and she pressed her hand to her wound as she struggled to stand. Vinn strode to her side, smirking devilishly, as she writhed in agony upon the cold linoleum floor.

"Say it, Hawk," he jeered. "Let me hear you plead for mercy! I'll probably not show you any, but I want to hear those words before I watch you die. Go on, say it!"

"Never," Hawk panted, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. "An Onasi will _never_ beg at your feet, Vinn! Do what you will to me, but you'll _never_ hear _me_ plead!"

"Not even for your life? Hmm. I suppose you got more from your father than just your last name. You got a healthy dose of his foolish pride, girl! And that pride will be your downfall. I swear it!"

He cocked his blaster and aimed it at her chest to put a bullet through her heart. Hawk's breathing sped up in panic and pain as she snapped her eyes closed to wait for the final blow. She was already weak as it was; if Vinn didn't kill her, then the bullet in her abdomen would. She knew that much. She could already taste blood in her mouth, and she almost gagged on it.

The next moment, the loud sound of a blaster shot echoed throughout the halls of Citadel Station, but it didn't come from Vinn's weapon. Hawk forced her eyes open in time to see Trandor Vinn slump to the ground, finally dead, and Jardin standing in the doorway with a grim expression on his face. The barrel of his blaster was smoking, and there was an evident hole in Vinn's back. Hawk tried to smile with relief, but she was in too much pain. It was all she could do to croak Jardin's name as he knelt at her side and gathered her into his arms. Blood dribbled from her mouth as Jardin screamed for help, and she coughed weakly. His protective hold on her only tightened as he pressed her head to his chest. Only a few seconds later, Atton, Metarie, and Travis were at her aid, pressing towels against her grievous wound in an attempt to stop the heavy bleeding. Dustil knelt by his sister, trying to administer as many medpacs as he could, but no number of them seemed to help.

"Take it easy, Hawk," Jardin said softly as he cradled her tenderly. "You'll be okay."

"Jardin, help me . . ." she groaned, clutching the front of his jacket and leaving a bloody handprint on the smooth green fabric. "I'm so cold . . ."

Tears welled in Jardin's eyes as she lost consciousness in his arms. A feeling of cold meant that shock was setting in, and if they didn't get the shock reversed, they'd lose her. Jardin looked up at Atton and Metarie, his eyes pleading for help.

"The infirmary's just down the hall," Metarie said quickly, standing. "Atton, help him."

Atton took Hawk from Jardin's arms and scooped her limp form up into his own strong arms. Jardin was close on his heel as they hurried to the infirmary to get her emergency medical care. Mentally, he begged the Force to let her live, and he could tell just by looking at Metarie's face that she was doing the same. They were so wrapped up in their concern for Hawk that no one noticed when Dustil slipped silently away toward the docking bays and the_ Ebon Hawk_.


	34. Dustil's Message

**************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Four - Dustil's Message**

Carth paced anxiously up and down the length of the living room back at the Onasi apartment. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, and his eyebrows were furrowed so deeply that they made quite visible creases on his forehead. All was silent in the living room, despite the presences of Revan, Bastila, and even Devin. The poor boy was absolutely devastated over his sister's disappearance, and he simply wrung his hands. All of them, especially Hawk's immediate family, were all too wrought with fear and worry to speak. Nothing could be heard except for the exceptionally loud ticking of the enormous grandfather clock that stood in the corner, but after a moment, Carth finally brought himself to speak.

"I just can't believe we simply let her go," he said, disbelief thick in his voice. "I thought the whole purpose of this was _finding_ Hawk, not letting her go on her merry way! I should have stopped her. I should have gotten a tractor beam on her and gotten her back!"

"There was nothing you could do, Carth," Bastila replied softly. "You've already told us that she was too far out of range. You couldn't have tractored her in if you'd tried."

"But I at _least_ should have _tried_!" Carth cried desperately. "I should have—"

He broke off abruptly and resumed his harried pacing. Revan sighed, reaching up and playing with her long black hair. She twisted the silken strands into a thick braid that tumbled down her back when she released it.

"I can't help but feel again that this my fault," she said. "I should gone ahead and given her to the Jedi and then told her when I was sure she'd been trained enough to handle it."

"It seems we always come back to this point, don't we?" Bastila asked gently, stretching out her hand to grab Revan's. "She _is_ your daughter, Revan; you cannot deny that. Everything you were and are courses through her veins as easily as her blood does. But she is a rogue; a loner; a wandering soul lost in the dark places in the galaxy, searching for the light. And her destiny lies along a different path from what yours became, and I sense that it will take this time of journeying for her to discover it. Please try not to entrap her in what you would have her do. I know the Force flows naturally through her as it does you, but perhaps her place in the universe is not entangled within the confines of the Jedi Order. She is destined for higher places, I sense. It will come in time. Let her find herself. She just needs time, most likely. Her world was shattered by the news of who you used to be . . . She just needs time to cope with it all."

"But you don't know what it feels like you have your baby girl run off, leaving you wondering where she is or if she's all right!" Carth rebutted, wheeling around, fear and anxiety burning in his eyes. "You . . . you could never know . . ." His voice trailed to a whisper as he came to a standstill. "She told me that she wanted to follow in my footsteps. She told me that she wanted to be a part of the fleet, and maybe someday become admiral in my stead. But now I don't even know where my daughter is. Right now I may not even _have_ a daughter!"

"And she's my _sister_!" Devin cried, equally upset. "I don't want to lose her!"

He was about to leave the room for a while of sorrowful solitude, but the buzzing of the nearby communications console grabbed everyone's attention. As if jarred by a sudden jolt of electricity, every backbone in the room straightened as Carth rushed to answer the call. He grinned with delight as Dustil's image appeared on the screen.

"Dustil! My Force, this _is_ a surprise!" he said excitedly, sounding happier than he had in the past few days. "Where are you today?"

"Hello, Father," came Dustil's somber reply. "I'm in the _Ebon Hawk_, to be honest."

"You're where—?" Carth found himself struck speechless. "What are you doing there?! Is Hawk with you?! We've been looking for her for weeks!"

"I know. She told me. But I called to tell you that I think you should come to Telos as soon as possible."

"Why?" Carth's Telosian blood stirred with concern at the mention of the planet, and he steadied himself as if preparing himself for terrible news about the world's welfare. "What's happened?"

Dustil sighed before answering, and grief overshadowed his face that was so much like his father's. He took a minute to try to calm himself.

"Hawk's here, Father, but . . . she's been hurt."

"No! Is she all right?" Worry was so thick in Carth's voice that one could easily cut it in two with a lightsaber.

"She's wounded badly. I'm . . . I'm not sure they're expecting her to survive . . ."

"No!" Carth cried, his voice breaking. "_NO!_"

"I think you should come as fast as you can," Dustil repeated.

"We will," Carth nodded hastily. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

With that, the viewscreen switched off, and Carth turned slowly to face the others. He had paled considerably, and his expression was grim. Revan stood and went to his side, resting her hand on his shoulder and searching his face. He just looked at her for a moment before embracing her tightly as she began to sob, whimpering Hawk's name into his chest. Worry was obvious on Bastila's face, for her small, shapely lips had drawn up into a tight line. They all remained there in the middle of the living room for a few minutes before Carth grabbed Revan by the hand and led her toward the door.

"We have to get to Telos," he said simply. "We'll take the _Sojourn_ again."

As they stepped out the door, Devin charged out after them, anxiety for his sister scribbled across his face. Bastila leaped to her feet and followed them, wiping tears from her eyes as she hurried up alongside them.

"May the Force be with you!" she cried, waving them good-bye.

Her farewell was received with gratitude, and Revan hugged her briefly before she and her husband and son rushed as quickly as they were able to the Republic Embassy and the _Sojourn_. It took them just under twenty minutes to get there, and on the way, Carth called the crew to get the ship ready for immediate takeoff. They hurriedly boarded the capital ship as soon as they arrived in the docking bays, and as he raced up the loading ramp, Carth glanced to the sky, sighing heavily.

"Please let my baby girl be okay."


	35. The Infirmary

******************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Five - The Infirmary**

Jardin found silence to be a dreadful enemy as he sat at Hawk's bedside with her hand clasped tightly between his. The only sound in the sparsely decorated hospital room was the low beeping of the monitor that measured the pulses of her gently beating heart. It was beating below normal, but it _was_ still beating, and Jardin was grateful for that. It offered him a tiny fragment of hope to which he could cling, leaving him with that faith that she would pull through and everything would return to normal. And yet, even though he wanted her to be all right, she didn't _look_ all right. Her face was unusually pale, and she had been unconscious for two days. Jardin was beginning to get terribly frightened because she simply wouldn't wake up. She'd only barely survived the emergency operation to remove Trandor Vinn's bullet from her body, and she had been unconscious ever since. Jardin himself had only left her side once or twice during the past two days, and the rest of the time, he kept silent vigil at her side. He watched her closely, looking for any sign that she would awaken soon, but every time, he found nothing. Sighing heavily, he gently squeezed her hand and gazed into her pale, placid face, and he found himself unnerved by the lack of motion in her.

"Hawk, you've just gotta be all right," he whispered. "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do if you die on me. You've come to mean a lot to me, if you didn't know that by now. You've always been there for me, and I've gotten used to seeing you as soon as I wake up in the morning. Hawk, I . . . I'm not really sure how to say it, because it might be true, but it might be just teenage infatuation. I dunno. But I'll say it, since right now I mean it, and you probably can't hear me anyway."

He closed his eyes as he pressed her hand to his chest, leaning over her and bending down to her ear as he gently whispered into it.

"I love you, Hawk."

He planted a soft kiss on her cool, white cheek as he returned to his seat at her side. He had just resumed slowly stroking the back of her hand when the door of the hospital room swung open and Carth and Revan raced in. Jardin stood when Carth approached, nodding once with respect.

"I guess you're her father, sir," he said. "I'm Hawk's friend, Jardin Elgon."

"Good to meet you, Jardin," Carth replied, even though his eyes were fixed on Hawk's seemingly fragile form. "We got here as fast as we could after we heard what happened. How is she?"

"She's been unconscious for two days, sir. The doctors pop in every once in a while, and the last I heard, she's still critical."

Carth sighed heavily and slowly moved to Hawk's side, sinking heavily into the cushioned chair. Reaching over, he grabbed his daughter's hand and gave it a squeeze. Jardin said nothing more and quietly slipped from the room to leave Hawk's parents alone with her. As soon as Jardin was gone, Revan crept to her husband's side.

"She'll be all right, Carth," she whispered gently, giving his shoulders a comforting squeeze. "She's got your spirit. She'll make it."

Tenderly, Revan leaned down and planted a loving, motherly kiss on her daughter's forehead before turning to leave the room. As she left, she mentioned something about leaving Carth alone with Hawk for a while and checking in with Metarie, whom she'd met in the infirmary's lobby. Carth barely noticed when she left, as he was so consumed by his overwhelming desire to simply make everything all right again. During their hasty journey to Telos, Dustil had informed him by comlink of everything that had transpired during Hawk's travels, and now he just wanted to put a bandage around it and "make it all better." A kiss and a grin used to be able to mend any hurt, emotional or physical, but now he felt completely inferior as he sat there gazing upon Hawk's empty, colorless face.

"Oh, Hawk," he said aloud, "I'm so sorry. I've failed you. I should have been there for you when you found out about your mother. If I'd been there for you to comfort you, this might never have happened. You never would have run, I never would have chased, and neither of us would be here in this hospital. I wouldn't be worrying now if you're gonna live to see your sixteenth birthday."

Carth chewed at his bottom lip for a minute, trying to hold back tears, before heaving a shuddering sigh and continuing. He gave Hawk's hand another gentle squeeze, lovingly stroking her palm.

"Please make it out of this, sweetheart," he whispered. "I love you more than life itself, and I'd . . . I'd probably die without you. You've always been a fighter . . . I need you to fight now, more than ever, because I need to see you smile. I've watched you grow from a bright-eyed baby to a beautiful young lady, and I want to see you mature into a grown woman. Hawk, I've said this once, but I'll say it again. I'm sorry for failing you. When you were born, I caught you, and I promised myself and you that I would catch you whenever you needed me to. But I didn't this time, and I'm just so sorry. Baby Girl, I want you to survive this so I can make it up to you. I love you with all my heart. _Please_ . . ."

He couldn't restrain his emotions any longer, and he released his grasp on Hawk's hand as he buried his face in his own. It was a heart-wrenching sight to see the Fleet Admiral of the Republic sobbing at his daughter's bedside, and when Revan poked her head into the room to check on things, she was so moved to tears that she raced to her husband and threw her arms around his neck. They just held each other, his face nestled in her hair and hers in his shoulder, for several long minutes. The way they clung to one another in their moment of crisis clearly illuminated their longstanding devotion to and reliance on each other. After a while, Revan pulled out of Carth's arms and slid into the hospital bed beside Hawk. Tenderly, she brushed her fingers through the girl's hair. Tears welled in her eyes as she bent down and lightly kissed Hawk on the forehead.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "It's all my fault. I should have explained everything."

"No, it's not your—" Carth interrupted, but she waved him off as she gathered Hawk's limp body into her arms and cradled her tenderly.

"Just pull through for me, baby," she said. "Just get better. That's all I ask."

She kissed Hawk's forehead again as a tear rolled down her cheek and splattered onto Hawk's hair. Carefully, she crawled back out of the bed and headed for the door.

"I'm going to go get some caffa," she explained when Carth gazed questioningly at her. She looked over into his eyes. "Don't leave our little girl."

With that, she turned and solemnly left the room, and Carth sank into the chair at the bedside.

·

Carth and Revan sat by Hawk's side all night and into the earliest hours of the morning. It was as if they hoped their presence would somehow entice the spark of life within her to grow larger and burn brighter. They took two-hour shifts at the bedside, alternating so one could attempt to get some menial amount of rest while the other watched and waited. Dustil, Metarie, and Atton attempted to pull them away from Hawk, offering to sit with her instead, but they blatantly refused. As Carth put it, "Wild horses can't drag me away from me daughter." After he made that statement of devotion, the others basically left them alone.

No one slept much that night, and what little sleep they did get was had while they tried to stretch out on couches and chairs in the infirmary's waiting room. Yet sleep was hard to attain. They all stayed wide awake for the most part, waiting—_hoping_—to see if Hawk would recover. Though they all were wrought with anxiety, no one suffered more than Revan and Carth . . . except Jardin. His internal struggle with fear remained unvoiced, but it was evidenced in the way he paced up and down the lobby, glancing to Hawk's room's door every five seconds. Metarie tried to soothe him in that maternal way of hers, and Atton tried to distract him with cards, but nothing worked. Eventually, the lad gave up and left the infirmary to roam the halls of Citadel Station to try to burn off some of his nervous energy.

About two in the morning, it was Carth's turn at Hawk's side. His shift was drawing to a close, and though he knew he would soon have to relinquish the chair to Revan, he couldn't bring him to vacate his seat at his daughter's bedside. He simply leaned back and watched Hawk's chest lightly rise and fall with each gentle breath she took, but after a minute, his eyelids began to droop. He'd forgotten how completely exhausted he was, but it certainly wasn't the first time he'd forced himself to stave off sleep for just a little longer . . . In fact, he remembered the night Devin was born. He'd lingered in the waiting room of the medical center on Coruscant with a rather excited Dustil for eight hours, only to doze off and be awakened ten minutes later by a grinning doctor . . .

Sleep. Oh, how _good_ the word sounded. It was like mentioning water to a traveler dying of thirst, or food to a man suffering from severe malnutrition. It was one of those physical needs he just could not ignore any longer.

"_Five minutes can't hurt, right?"_ he thought as his eyelids sagged even worse. _"I'll . . . just . . ."_

He was out before he could finish the sentence, nodding off with a faint twitch and a light snore. It wasn't exactly peaceful sleep, but it _was_ sleep, and every inch of his body groaned with relief. He was only asleep for a few minutes before it began feeling like a lifetime to him. An hour to an exhausted body feels like only ten seconds, and Force knew that was the case with him.

·

The minutes ticked by for the next hour as Carth dozed soundly in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted to one side, his chin almost touching his shoulder. It seemed as though a freight train would fail to rouse him, but he awoke with a start at the sudden sensation of a small, cool hand touching his knee. Adrenaline surged through him as he sat bolt upright with surprise, but he inhaled sharply when he found himself gazing into Hawk's clear blue eyes. He heaved a shuddering sigh, trembling with relief as he sandwiched her hand between both of his.

"Oh, Hawk," he breathed, tears shining in his eyes.

Hawk smiled weakly as her eyes rested contentedly on her father's face. After a minute, however, she gave a faint cry of dismay and reached up to touch the hair at his temple.

"Daddy, your beautiful _hair_," she whimpered, remorsefully stroking the few silvery strands.

A tear slid down Carth's cheek as he forced a smile. Gently, he pulled her hand away from his hair and pressed it to his cheek as he closed his eyes and thanked the Force that she was well enough to comment about his "lil' ol'" grays. After a moment, he leaned over her and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Hawk giggled softly, happy to have his beard brushing against her face again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I wanted you to be here when I woke up," she whispered. "I missed you so much. I was just about to come home, too."

Carth sat back, astonishment forcing both eyebrows up into a sweeping arch.

"You were?"

Hawk nodded.

"I got lonely out here. Even with everybody else hanging around, I missed you and Mom." She reached up and grabbed his hand. "Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for running away. I should have waited for an explanation instead of just running. I was stupid to think that running would fix it. I'm so sorry."

Smiling tenderly, Carth leaned over again and gave her a gentle hug.

"It's okay, Baby Girl," he whispered, using her favorite pet name. "Everything's all right now."

Hawk sighed contently as she pressed her face into his shoulder and caught a faint whiff of his favorite cologne. She had known that scent ever since she was four years old, and it still was able to effectuate a sense of security.

At that moment, the door opened slightly as Revan entered to take her shift. When Hawk saw her mother, she gave a cheerful greeting that nearly knocked Revan to the floor with relief. She raced into the room and nearly threw herself onto Hawk as Carth pulled back, but Hawk didn't mind. She was actually grateful to be in her mother's warm embrace again, so she threw her arms around Revan.

"I missed you, Mom," she said.

"Oh, I missed you, too, Hawk. I'm just happy that you're all right."

"Is it okay if I come home now?" Hawk questioned, as if her running away had forever locked the door against her.

Revan gave a cry of joy and nodded quickly as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She ran her fingers through Hawk's hair and lovingly cupped the girl's cheek in her hand.

"Of course you can, darling," she smiled. "I'm so glad you've changed your mind."

With a quick nod of her head, Revan invited Carth for an emotional group hug, and the two of them promptly squeezed Hawk between them. And while Hawk normally would have pitched a royal fit and whined about being "crushed to the point of suffocation," as she often put it, she just grinned and threw her arms around both her parents' necks. Happiness surged through her as they both held her; it felt like a rushing river of warmth that tingled right down to her toes.

"_Now why I was stupid enough to run away,"_ she thought, _"I swear I'll never know. But right now, I really don't care."_


	36. Ginger Ale for Jardin

******************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Six - Ginger Ale for Jardin**

Hawk remained in the infirmary for another couple of days until the doctors gave her a clean bill of health. She promised them that she would take it easy, but Revan knew that she'd break that promise as soon as she were given the chance. That impatience to wait around in a hospital was yet another of Carth's traits that Hawk had picked up on, for he'd never been one to spend much time in an infirmary. Revan had always known that her daughter was practically Carth's miniature, but never had it been so pronounced. It was quite a humorous sight to see Hawk practically sitting on her father's shoulder like a large monkey as he read a holomag, her eyes scanning the words at the same speed as his were. True to form, Hawk swiftly broke her promise to rest as, one morning, she came bounding out of the 'fresher in the hospital room, tugging her gloves on. She was about to make a beeline for the door when Revan, who had been neatening the blankets on the bed, stopped her.

"Just where do you think you're going, young lady?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Out," Hawk answered with a quick roll of her eyes.

"Out? And don't you roll your eyes at me, missy. You're not too big for me to go get your father's belt."

"Sorry, Mom," Hawk repented with a sigh before she gave an answer to her mother's original question. "And yes, _out_. You know, away from here, into the halls . . . _Out_."

"Any particular reason?" Revan questioned.

"I want to know where Jardin ran off to," Hawk replied simply. "I haven't seen him since I got shot, and I want to know where he is."

"I saw him, Hawk," said a familiar male voice from the doorway.

Hawk turned to find Travis standing there, leaning casually against the door frame. He smiled when Hawk's eyes met his, though she pretended not to notice the way his gaze remained fixed on her.

"Where'd he go?" she asked.

"He went down to the cantina just before you woke up the other day. Said he needed to relax or something," Travis answered. "He looked pretty depressed when he left, and I haven't seen him since then. But, uh, Hawk . . . I think he's been worrying about you. He tried not to show it, but I could tell anyway."

"Thanks, Travis," Hawk smiled, clapping him on the shoulder as she darted from the room.

Revan called for her to wait, but she ignored it as she jogged out of the infirmary and down the hallway toward the shuttle to the Entertainment Module. She had to slow to a walk before she reached the shuttle, for the muscles in her abdomen spasmed painfully. It was a gruesome reminder of everything she'd been through, but she tried to forget about it for the time being. The first order of business was to find Jardin and cheer him up with the news of her recovery, and what better way to do that than pay him a visit?

The walk to the cantina was a short one, just as it had been on that nearly tragic afternoon, and just as it had been that day, no one paid her any notice as she walked through the door. Briefly sweeping the cantina with her eyes, she searched for Jardin's recognizable green jacket. She quickly found him sitting at the bar with a large glass of ginger ale clutched in his hand. From where she stood at the doorway, she could see that his expression was one of grief and despair and the bartender kept shooting him sympathetic glances. Hawk found herself feeling incredibly sorry for him, so she quietly crept up to him and slipped onto a bar stool at his side.

"What, wouldn't they sell you anything stronger than _ginger_ ale?" she teased softly.

Jardin wheeled around, his eyes wide with shock at seeing Hawk sitting beside him. For a moment, he was completely speechless, as though an acute attack of idiocy had befallen him. With a nervously trembling hand, he reached out to finger a loose strand of her hair as if to assure himself that she was indeed real.

"Hawk," he whispered, "you're alive!"

"Well, of course I am!" she laughed. "Shouldn't you, of all people, know by now that you can't take an Onasi down? You disappoint me, Jar."

Jardin gave a small smile and silently gazed at her for a long minute, his eyes locking steadily with hers. After completely convincing himself that he was not speaking with a ghost from the hereafter, he responded to her statement.

"I was scared," he said. "I was scared you wouldn't make it."

"I almost didn't," Hawk admitted with a tone of seriousness. "But something changed, and I was moved from critical up to stable in a couple of hours. It may have had something to do with Dad coming in, but I don't know."

"Maybe it was me?" Jardin suggested.

"You? How could it have been you?"

"Well . . ." he said slowly, reaching for her hand. "I stayed at your side for a long time, but when your dad came in, I left."

Gently, he unfastened the closure at her wrist and slid her glove from her hand. Hawk gave a surprised start, but she didn't stop him that time. Her entire hand tingled as he traced a few small circles on her palm, but she didn't pull away. She just stared at him.

"You _do_ remember what happened the last time you tried this, right?" she whispered.

Jardin looked up, his bright green eyes sparkling in the dim light of the cantina.

"As I recall," he said, leaning in close to her and lightly pressing her now-bare hand to his heart, "it went a little something like this."

At that, he quietly kissed her as gently and simply has he had in the _Ebon Hawk_'s galley. Again, Hawk lost all knowledge of how to breathe, but instead of just sitting there motionless, she leaned into him and returned the kiss. It was a quite short kiss, as kisses go, for at that moment, someone nearby cleared their throat and got Hawk and Jardin's attention. The two turned to find Carth standing in the cantina doorway with his arms crossed, and Jardin quickly released Hawk's hand. He nervously cleared his throat and coughed as Carth approached.

"Found one you like, Jardin?" Carth asked with subtle playfulness.

"Uhh, well, I . . ." Jardin stammered, his cheeks turning as red as a suit of Bonadan Heavy Alloy armor. He tugged at his collar. "Gee, sir, if I'd known you were standing there, I never would have—"

"You would never have what?" Carth questioned, winking slyly at Hawk. "You never would have kissed my daughter? Heh. I kind of find that unlikely. Just let me warn you of something, _boy_ . . ."

Jardin gulped as Carth neared him and leaned up against the bar. Hawk shook her head, rubbing the center of her forehead with her middle finger. She knew where this conversation was going, and as much as she loved her father, it actually embarrassed her a bit.

"I'm a Mandalorian War vet," Carth explained, "and I've got an itchy trigger finger. As long as you treat her right, you'll be fine. But if you step out of line just once . . ."

Carth brought his fist slamming down onto his open palm, and Jardin jumped at the loud smacking sound. Hawk rolled her eyes slightly.

"Oh, Dad," she sighed. "You're impossible!"

"Hey, what can I say? I've been practicing that speech for fifteen years!"

Hawk laughed as Carth gave Jardin a grin that showed he meant no harm, and Jardin relaxed quite visibly. She leaned over and reassuringly squeezed his arm, and not two seconds passed before Revan raced into the cantina. She was breathless, and her hair tousled from running through Citadel's corridors.

"Carth," she said quickly, hurrying to his side. "We've got trouble."

"What's going on?" Carth asked, his eyes furrowing.

"Lieutenant Flanders just picked up an emergency beacon back at the _Sojourn_. Taton Five's been attacked by a band of raiders."

Carth's expression quickly turned to anxiety and frustration, and Hawk couldn't figure out why he was showing such concern over a dusty planet that she knew was definitely on the Outer Rim. She rose from her seat and laid a hand on his shoulder, and Carth turned to look at his daughter.

"What's so important about Taton Five?" she asked, scrunching up her nose the way she did whenever something made no sense to her.

"_What's so important about Taton Five?!_" Carth shot her own question back at her, as if in disbelief that he'd failed to impart this piece of knowledge to Hawk. "Taton Five produces most of the iron and steel we use to build our capital ships, and a good portion of their factories are used for building the ships. The others are used for making arms and ammunition."

"Ah. So I guess it's not the half-dead little planet I thought it was?" Hawk questioned.

"No. If we lose Taton Five, we lose our biggest producer of capital ships and weapons. The thing I can't understand, though, is why a band of raiders would want to take out a purely industrial world."

"Lieutenant Flanders said it was few hundred Mandalorian mercenaries," Revan interjected. "They're heavily armed and spoiling for a fight."

"Mando mercs? Whoo, boy, Candy ain't gonna be happy to hear that," Hawk scoffed.

"I thought the Mandalorians had run off to build up a great empire," Jardin interrupted suddenly, coming to Hawk's side. "From what I heard, they were all holed up on Dxun or someplace waiting to make their grand reappearance."

"I guess some of 'em didn't want to be 'honorable' again," Carth said with a solemn tone of disregard. "At any rate, we've got to get over to Taton Five and stop those mercs before they wipe out the entire planet! Rev, come with me. We'll take the _Sojourn_, alert the fleet in the next closest sector, and move in for a little fun."

He hurriedly started to leave the cantina for the docking bays when Hawk ran up alongside him and stopped him. When he turned to her, she motioned to herself and Jardin.

"Dad, let us help," she said. "The others can help, too. We're more than capable of it!"

"No," Carth said firmly. "I won't have you risking your skin for something that I can take care of."

"But Dad!" Hawk protested, grabbing his arm. "You might _not_ be able to take care of it. You don't know when the reinforcements would be able to get there. Having the _Ebon Hawk_ and the rest of us at your side might buy you enough time to beat those mercs back. Please?"

Her deep blue eyes gazed up imploringly into his brown ones, and for a moment, Carth expected her to use the same routine she always did. He expected her to put on a little pout and wide, pleading eyes, but this time, she didn't. She just stared at him with the look of someone who was genuinely interested in the cause. After a moment, Carth consented.

"All right. You and the others can help out. You can help the most by keeping the _Hawk_ in the air once we get to Taton Five and giving air support. Don't hit the ground unless I tell you to, which isn't gonna be likely. If you get there before I do, stay back and don't engage the mercs. You hear me, Baby Girl?"

He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. Hawk grinned and placed her hands on top of his, squeezing them lovingly and noticing the strong, sinewy muscles in his hands. For a split-second, she traveled to another place and time, remembering the times when she was a very small girl that those hands would offer her solace in times of distress. Yet those same hands, which could be so gentle and so caring, could be like durasteel whenever she misbehaved. Quickly returning from her trance, she nodded at her father.

"I hear you, Dad. Don't worry; I won't screw this up."

Still smiling, she snapped to attention and gave him a proper military salute, lightly touching her fingertips to her brow and holding her right arm in a rigid acute angle.

"Ready when you are, Admiral Dad!"

Carth chuckled as he gave her a quick hug. The next moment, he and Revan raced from the cantina toward the docking bays, and Hawk and Jardin left soon after to get the others and head to Taton Five. Hawk couldn't help but bounce with excitement. Finally, some action worth having! She would at last get to have an adventure without the risk of evil-minded, credit-grubbing bounty hunters to ruin it. Her steps were light and almost airy as she and the others hurried down to the _Hawk_, and she seemed to nearly bound up to the cockpit to get the ship moving. Of course, she was the only one excited about the mission on Taton Five. Metarie didn't like fights on the best of days, and though Atton was normally up for a good rumble, he complained of being too tired to fight anybody, even if it _was_ for a good cause like saving Taton Five. Travis, like his mother, informed the others of his staunch disinterest in combat, and Canderous bemoaned the dishonorable road his brethren had taken. Dustil remained quiet, though he polished and reloaded his blaster just in case, and when Hawk glanced at him, she thought she caught a glimpse of the silvery hilt of a lightsaber under his tunic. A curiosity welled in her if he would use it or not, because she personally longed to see how much damage her beloved brother could do. Yet as if the silence in the ship during the hyperspace flight wasn't bad enough, Hawk eventually went hunting for Jardin and found him in the boys' dorm absently playing with his cards. With a heavy sigh, she returned to the cockpit to watch the stars swirl past, and as she sank into the pilots' chair, she crossed her arms.

"_If I can't get this group psyched up for the fight,"_ she thought, _"then Taton Five is a goner. I wonder if the Republic's gonna feel up to another restoration project . . ."_

Her thoughts indicated that she seemed to have forgotten the coming assistance of the Republic fleet, but perhaps that fact was relatively unimportant to her fifteen-year-old mind that had been swamped by such drama. She herself was still excited over the coming battle, which was to be her first even if she only flew air support, so she sat back in her seat to watch the swirling colors of hyperspace as she waited anxiously for the arrival at Taton Five.


	37. Taton Five

******************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Seven - Taton Five**

Taton Five looked just as Hawk had expected. From the cockpit of the _Ebon Hawk_, she could see that the terrain was rough, with steep black mountains towering up from the endless seas of ankle-deep red sand. It was slightly like Tatooine in that respect, as well as in the fact that it was both sweltering and arid nearly year-round. The sky was blue and dotted with tiny, fluffy white clouds, but they were almost impossible to notice against the ruggedly stunning landscape of crimson sand and scraggly desert trees. The planet reminded Hawk somewhat of an action-filled holovid she'd seen once that took place on some backwater world. As she recalled, it had involved a gang of criminals and one hero to take them all out. She seemed to remember that the holovid had some pretty catchy theme music, as well, but that was beside the point.

From where she sat in the cockpit, she could see the damage the mercs had done. Even in the deserted piece of land the _Ebon Hawk_ occupied, she could see evidence of serious razing. She was sure that there was a village up ahead that had already lost a battle to the Mandalorians, and from where she was, she could see another town farther up that was currently engaged in heated combat. She knew the locals weren't equipped for combat. This was a strictly industrial planet. They only knew how to make weapons, not how to own, keep, and bear them. As far as she was concerned, it was like pitting a hundred Sand People against a moisture farmer militia made up of three men. Frustrated with these odds, she rose from the pilot's chair and went to find Jardin. She found him curled up on his bunk, asleep. Quickly, she leaped onto him, deftly awakening and startling him.

"Good grief, Hawk!" Jardin hissed. "What are you thinking, waking a poor guy up?!"

"We can't wait for the Republic," she said hurriedly. "We've got to go help."

"But your dad said to stay put!"

"I don't really care! I didn't _exactly_ promise him I'd stay put if we got here first. I just told him I wouldn't screw anything up."

"Heading over there to pick a fight with a bunch of Mandalorians seems like the definition of 'screwing things up,'" Jardin muttered, flopping back onto his bunk and turning his back to her.

Rolling her eyes and sighing, Hawk punched him in the side. Jardin leaped right out of bed, clutching his bruised side. He was livid, but Hawk just watched with an air of amusement as he hopped around the room.

"Sheesh, what was that for?!" he screeched. "If you think that punching me is gonna get me up to go out and face a whole herd of Mandalore wannabes, you're out of your head! I'm not gonna go out there and risk my skin for this backwater little planet!"

"Aww, come on, Jar," Hawk said, rising from the edge of his bunk. "Where's your sense of chivalry? Where's that lust for adventure, that eagerness to be the hero and save the day?"

"It flew out the airlock as soon as I heard it was Mandalorians we were up against."

Hawk huffed, turned on heel, and stormed from the room. Suddenly frustrated with himself, Jardin threw his hands into the air before racing after her.

"Darn it all, Hawk, you don't have to go and get a hydrospanner up your ion engine just because I don't feel like getting killed today! I didn't mean to make you mad, it's just—"

Hawk spun around, her eyes flashing. She thrust her index finger into his face as her face reddened, her body language revealing a previously unseen zeal for the Republic. Jardin took two steps backward for fear that she might attack him. In her eyes he saw that same fervor for the Republic that resided permanently in her father's eyes, and the fire that burned there unnerved him, if only slightly.

"It's just that if we don't do something other than sitting here on our butts while waiting for Dad and the fleet to show up, this entire planet might burn at the hands of a bunch of mercs who have nothing better to do!" Hawk spat hotly. "The entire Republic fleet could be wiped out in future battles because this planet will no longer be able to provide the capital ships, snub fighters, and blaster rifles we use to keep the worlds under our protection safe! And do you know what that means, Jardin? It means that as soon as somebody such as the Sith decides to take over the galaxy, the Republic won't have the firepower to stop them! The Republic could crumble because _you_ won't come with me to help the citizens of this world."

"I think you may be exaggerating," Jardin conceded, "but you do have a point." He gave a sigh, shrugging. "Oh, what the heck. It could be fun. Who knows? We might just kick their sorry behinds from here to the Unknown Regions."

"Now there's the Jardin I remember," Hawk said, smiling as she clamped her hand around his shoulder. "Get the others. Tell them what's going on and get them all outfitted with a blaster or two. We're gonna fly in closer and get down there to help out."

"_Down?_ As in, _on the ground_? But I thought your dad said—"

"Screw what my dad said! This is my ship, so it's my rules. Now let's go!"

With that, she raced to the cockpit to pilot the _Ebon Hawk_ closer to the besieged city as Jardin hurried off to alert the others to the plan.

·

A few minutes later, Hawk set the _Ebon Hawk_ down in a sector of the city that seemed to have been already ravaged by the Mandalorian mercenaries. As the group exited the ship, they could hear the sounds of battle coming from nearby, and Hawk broke into a run. Travis raced up to her and grabbed her wrist.

"You're going to the battle?" he exclaimed. "What's the matter with you?!"

"Nothing!" she cried. "I just want to help!"

Shrugging out of his grasp, she darted around a corner and toward the middle of town. Along the way, she took notice of all the fresh carbon scoring that left an appalling reminder of war on the walls of the buildings. Upon arrival at town square, she skidded to a halt as the magnitude of the situation struck her. It seemed to basically be the entire city versus a band of two hundred renegade Mandalorians, one hundred or so various other mercenaries, and dozen shady criminals that Hawk recognized as having once been under Trandor Vinn's service. For a moment, she just stood and stared, dumbfounded, at the vicious battle laid out before her, and the others jogged up behind her.

"What's the matter?" Jardin asked. "Cold feet?"

"No, not cold feet," Hawk answered, "but boy, I wish Dad and the fleet were here!"

The Force must have been paying attention that day, for no sooner had she spoken those words than the _Sojourn_ pulled out of hyperspace with an adequately-sized fleet behind it. Hawk heaved a sigh of relief as she glanced up to the sky and watched a squadron of fighters swoop down from space.

"Well, at least the cavalry's arrived," she chuckled, tossing a smirk at Jardin.

While she could—and should—have returned to the _Ebon Hawk_ and offered air support as she'd been instructed, Hawk continued into the middle of the fighting. She ignored the others' attempts to stop her from charging into the thick of it all, and she raced right up and began firing her blaster at any mercenary she could. A thug came at her from her left, and she whirled around in time to knock him flat with a kick to his stomach. She felt a wave of relief wash over her when she turned and caught a glimpse of Jardin and Atton taking on a two-hundred-pound merc that had a fist the size of a New Year's ham. At least they were capable shots, for they managed to take the giant merc down in only a few moments; of course, that was after Jardin found himself on the receiving end of an enormous punch in the nose. From the corner of her eye, Hawk saw Metarie, blue-bladed lightsaber in hand, tackling a handful of mercs who had the nerve to harass an old woman.

_Bzzt, zmph, zzt._

Scratch one trio of mercenaries. Hawk spun around and put a blaster bolt right between the eyes of one of Trandor Vinn's thugs who had picked up a large wooden beam and was coming at her with it. He dropped like a sack of rocks thrown into a river, and Hawk allowed herself a tiny nod of satisfaction. It was then that she heard a familiar voice shouting her name. Spinning around, she found a battalion of Republic soldiers racing to the scene, and at their head was Lieutenant Flanders . . . and her parents.

As the battalion raced up to quell the violent outbreak, Hawk rushed through their lines back to where her Carth had stopped while Revan ran ahead to join the battle. As she approached, she noticed that Carth was giving her one of his nearly trademarked glares in which his lips were drawn into a tight line and he kept one eyebrow arched. Hawk quickly holstered her blaster, grinning sheepishly. Carth crossed his arms, watching her without saying a word.

"Gee, uh, it's some fight!" Hawk said, trying to come up with a better excuse for why she had disobeyed his orders. Quickly, however, she gave up and emphatically threw her hands out in front of herself in almost a pleading motion. "Dad, I _had_ to help. I couldn't just let these people die!"

"Our troops would have gotten here soon enough, Hawk," he said sternly. "All you had to do was wait and then fly cover for us! A few hundred mercs is nothing for an army of Republic soldiers. Why didn't you wait?!"

"I couldn't help it!" Hawk exclaimed. "I wanted to show I could do something. I wanted to prove that I'm good enough to get into the fleet!"

"And in trying to prove yourself to me, you put your friends at risk. What if this did prove your worth to the fleet? What if you made it at the expense of your friends' lives, hmm?"

"Dad, you said it was nothing your soldiers couldn't handle!"

"That's right, because they're trained for it. Almost all of the others, _especially_ Jardin, are _not_. What were you thinking?!"

Hawk opened her mouth to answer, but the cry of "Fire, fire!" suddenly echoed through the streets. She and Carth spun around to see fiendish flames leaping from the roof of a nearby house that was directly attached to a factory. With a gasp, father and daughter raced closer to the scene to see if anything could be done to extinguish the flames before they reached out their fiery fingers and set the factory ablaze. As they rushed up, Hawk saw Jardin thrust his way through the chaos toward the building, and she raced to his side.

"Jardin!" she cried. "What are you doing?!"

"There's some lady's baby in there!" he answered. "I'm not gonna leave the kid in there to toast!"

"Jar!" Hawk exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Now is _not_ the time to be getting all heroic on me!"

"You wondered where my sense of chivalry was," he replied. "Well, here it is. I know what it's like to lose a family member, and I'm not about to let other folks experience that for themselves!"

A portion of the blazing roof caved in, crashing to the ground with a deafening thud. Hawk could clearly hear the terrorized screams of a young child inside, and her heart skipped a beat. She was paralyzed with fear as Jardin gave her a quick peck on the cheek and raced to the building. By the time that he broke his way through the door, the house was engulfed in searing yellow and orange flames, and smoke poured like water from the windows. Hawk couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, or even speak. All she could do was stand there and stare at the building as the flames licked at its walls like red-tongued demons.

It was at that moment that the unimaginable happened. A mercenary who had managed to avoid getting himself shot by the Republic troops hurled a grenade through the house's window in an attempt to get the fire to spread to the capital ship factory. A few seconds later, the bomb exploded, hurling shrapnel and rock in every direction. Hawk gasped in absolute horror as the entire structure came plunging to the earth, flattening into nothing but a pile of rubble.

"_Jardin!_" she screamed as her knees buckled and everything went black.


	38. Bad News

**A/N: **Darth edzariacusious, to answer your comment: first, the nice way. In the realm of fanfiction, there is no such thing as "right" or "wrong," and you should not tell me such. This means that if I want Revan to be a woman, then a woman she shall be, so you're going to have to deal. Now, for the not so nice way: I don't give a crap about Revan's canonical gender. _(Sooran, shab.)_

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight - Bad News**

Hawk awoke several hours later on a bunk in a Coruscant-bound _Sojourn_ to find both her parents sitting at her side and her mother holding her hand. Quickly, she glanced around as if searching for the answer to why she was in the capital ship and not the _Ebon Hawk_. After a moment, she turned to her parents, confusion scribbled across her face.

"Why am I here?" she asked. "Where's the _Hawk_?"

"She's down in the hangar," Carth answered quietly.

Hawk noticed then that both Revan and Carth wore odd expressions. Those expressions were almost a combination of sorrow and sympathy, and Hawk raised an eyebrow. There was a distinct feeling of dread in the air, and it was so thick that Hawk could have sworn that she could taste it. She gave the room another look, swallowing hard when she saw that she was alone with her parents.

"Where's Jardin? Is he okay? Did—did he save that baby?"

Carth and Revan exchanged a glance, and Carth solemnly reached over to grab his daughter's other hand. He gave it a tender squeeze as he looked into her eyes, sighing heavily.

"Hawk, sweetheart . . ." he began slowly, "Jardin . . . Jardin didn't make it."

"_What?_" Hawk's voice trembled with disbelief. "No! _NO!_ I—it can't be!"

"Baby Girl, he—"

"NO!" Hawk screamed, tears streaming down her face. She turned and tumbled onto her bunk, burying her face in her pillow. "He _can't_ be dead! He just _can't_!"

Carth leaned over and gently rubbed her back as she began to sob bitterly, hoping to calm her, but it failed to work this time. She cried harder than she'd ever cried in her life, and with each sob, her body shook violently.

"I never told him!" she sputtered, hiccupping. "I never got the chance! I—I never told him I loved him!"

She began to cry harder, pounding her pillow with her balled-up fists, and Revan slid alongside her onto the bunk. Gently, she smoothed her daughter's matted hair, trying to untangle every little knot. After a minute, Hawk pushed herself up and threw herself into her mother's arms, still weeping sorrowfully. Revan tightly wrapped her arms around Hawk's trembling form, trying to soothe the girl's pain with her compassionate embrace. She rocked her back and forth slowly, and Carth quietly stood to leave them alone. As he left, he planted a gentle kiss on the top of Hawk's head.

"I'll go see how far we are from home," he said softly as he turned to leave. He cast a long, sad glance at Hawk. "I hope she'll be all right."

Revan continued to rock her daughter, attempting to calm Hawk and quiet her anguished tears. A few long minutes passed, but it seemed to work after a while. Hawk quieted somewhat, having had an excellent cry. Now all she did was sniffle occasionally and press her head against her mother's shoulder.

"I loved him, Mom," she whispered, staring at the undecorated metal wall. "I loved him ever since I first met him."

"I know you did, sweetie. I know."

"But I never told him. I _should_ have. The first time he kissed me, I should have. The _second_ time he kissed me, I should have. I should have at least said _something_ before he ran into that house! I should have tried to stop him!"

"You did, baby. There wasn't anything you could have done. It was his time."

"How can a sixteen-year-old have a 'time'?!" Hawk cried. "I was gonna ask him to come back to Coruscant with us. I was gonna ask him to hang around until we got old enough to spend the rest of our lives together. I had so many plans . . . And now . . . now they're all shot because he's _dead_!"

With that, Hawk pulled out of Revan's arms and collapsed onto her bunk as she began to sob hopelessly again. Revan felt so sorry for her, but there was nothing she could say or do that would ease the stabbing, burning pain in Hawk's heart. So, she simply draped a blanket over Hawk, bent down to gently kiss her on the cheek, and quietly left the room. Hawk's sobs echoed throughout the room as Revan shut the door, and the girl, miserable with grief, eventually cried herself into a lonely, dreamless sleep.

·

When Hawk awoke several hours later, the _Sojourn_ was making its final approach into Coruscant. She wondered how she'd managed to sleep so long, because space travel had never agreed with her biological clock. Often, she'd remain either awake all night or asleep all day because her brain just didn't care for the multiple transitions that took place during a hyperspace flight. But as she rolled over, threw her legs over the side of the bunk, and sat up, she remembered the horrible news her parents had met her with the last time she was awake. For a minute, she felt as though she were going to start crying again, but she took a deep breath and shook her head.

"_No, I won't cry,"_ she thought. _"I have to be strong, just for his sake."_

Nevertheless, she still felt a horrible pang of grief in her chest, and she had to swallow harder than usual to get past the lump in her throat. She glanced around the room and found a navy blue jacket with a yellow stripe running vertically down each sleeve hanging on the back of a nearby chair. It reminded her of her old jacket except for the fact that her old shoulder striping had gone horizontally and that this jacket was brand new. Fastened to it with a small pin was a note from her parents.

"_Dustil told us that you lost your other jacket, so here's a new one. We thought you might like to have one in the same colors. Please come to the bridge whenever you're ready; we'd like to see you about something._

_-Mom and Dad"_

Shrugging slightly, Hawk removed the note and tugged on the new jacket. It was comfortable and stylish, and it fit perfectly. It fit so much like a glove that she was certain it had been custom tailored to fit her. This was not a jacket from the surplus bins, as her other had been, but this was a military grade flight jacket custom sewn by probably Carth's tailor. Needless to say, she was glad to receive it. The quarters she was staying in were unusually cold, and she gratefully zipped the jacket up around her neck. As she did so and readied herself to head to the bridge to see her parents, there came a gentle knock at the door.

"Come in," she said.

The door slid open as Travis poked his head around it. He glanced around the room before slowly padding in.

"Hey, Hawk," he said quietly. "Listen, I, uh . . . I heard about Jardin. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she replied, suddenly morose again.

Her gaze fell to the floor as Travis crept across the room to her side. He opened his arms to her, offering a warm hug of compassion, and Hawk nodded slowly as she slid into his embrace. She rested her head against his shoulder as he held her, and every fiber of her being screamed with the urge to cry again. She heaved a shuddering sigh, refusing to shed a tear and instead allowing herself a mournful sniffle.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Hawk answered with a sigh. "It'll take a little while, but I think I'll eventually come to terms with it."

"Well, I hope so," Travis said softly. "Seeing you upset makes me feel that way, too. I don't remember you ever being this sad. Not even after Trandor Vinn were you like this."

"Jardin was . . . very special," she answered in a whisper. "He was my best friend. I'm really going to miss him . . ."

Gently, she pulled out of Travis's embrace and headed toward the door, where she stepped out into the hallway that eventually led to the bridge. She was aware of Travis's gaze locked onto her back, but she ignored it as she walked to the bridge. From their note, whatever her parents were waiting to discuss with her sounded quite important.

The bridge wasn't too far from the room Hawk had occupied, so she reached it in only twenty minutes or so. When she arrived, she found that the ship had docked at the Republic Embassy and that the bridge was completely devoid of all others except Carth, Revan, and Devin. They stood at the window, talking quietly, and Hawk noticed, slightly suspiciously, that they fell silent as her footsteps thudded across the floor panels. Carth turned, and Hawk saw that his face wore an expression of absolute seriousness. She'd only seen that expression once before, but it had been too long prior for her to remember what had been going on. All she remembered was that look on his face that showed he meant business. However, she was certain that it had involved her having broken some rule, so she gulped fearfully as she worried that he was about to punish her for what had happened at Taton Five. What if they blamed her and her disobedience for Jardin's death? Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly to them. Devin squeezed her shoulder and offered a smile of encouragement as he turned and left the bridge, leaving Hawk alone with their parents. Hawk walked to Carth's side, and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

"You got our note," he said with an approving nod. "This is very important for you to hear. Your mother and I have something to ask you."

"Yes, sir?" Hawk replied timidly, using that exceptionally polite phrase because of the stern tone she had caught in his voice.

"We want to know if you're ready to join the fleet," Carth said slowly, and he held up his hand as a command to be silent when Hawk opened her mouth to answer excitedly. "Think it over carefully. Once you join, you swear a loyalty to the Republic that can't be broken. Joining the fleet may put your life in jeopardy one day. Can you handle knowing that?"

"Of course I can!" Hawk cried. "I want to be like you, Dad."

"Oh, no, you don't," Carth said with a faint smile. "There are so many little tricky nuances about me that I hope you never inherit." He reached over to push her stubborn bangs out of her eye. "You got so many of my genes, but there are some things about me that I want you never to have. That's partly the reason why we asked you up here. Are you so quickly ready to join the fleet because you're hoping to use it as a way to dull the pain of losing Jardin?"

"No," Hawk answered quietly, though for a moment she wondered if there was a part of her that _was_. She looked up into her father's face. "I've always wanted to join the fleet, Dad. You know that. I've always wanted to follow you and take over for you when you get ready to retire. _Please_ give me the chance."

Carth glanced over at Revan, who silently nodded her approval. With a somewhat heavy sigh, Carth turned back around and clamped his hand on Hawk's shoulder.

"Just because you're my daughter," he said, "you won't be getting any special treatment other than the fact that you'll be at my side and under my personal charge. You'll start out as a private, the same as any other soldier, and you'll have to pull your weight in order to make it up the ranks. If you can get yourself to or above the rank of colonel before I retire, I'll see to it that you're promoted to Fleet Admiral. Do you understand me, Hawk?"

"I do, Dad," she whispered solemnly. "I'm ready for this."

Carth smiled tightly and hugged her close to himself. She buried her face in the soft suppleness of the well-worn orange leather of his jacket, remembering how she'd always liked the feeling of it brushing against her skin. It reminded her of the time she'd found it hanging in the back of his closet, and, as curiosity overwhelmed her, she had taken it out and promptly tried it on. It had been much too large, of course; it had hung on her like a potato sack, but she had loved the few moments she'd worn it.

Eventually, Revan came over and wrapped her arms around her husband and daughter, and the little family stood in silence on the _Sojourn_'s bridge for a full ten minutes before heading into the Republic Embassy to set Hawk's destiny in motion.


	39. Generally Speaking

**********************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Thirty-Nine - Generally Speaking**

_Ten years after Taton Five._

There came a point in Hawk's life when the wide-eyed and adventurous teenaged girl vanished and the serious, battle-hardened woman made her debut. It was a moment of change, not of the physical variety, but of the emotional one. It made its grand appearance after a brutal civil war on a faraway world nearly devastated the entire planet. There were innumerable deaths on both sides of the conflict, and the side fighting for what was right had begged for Republic reinforcements. Hawk had led those reinforcements to the planet, and they had aided the freedom fighters until they emerged from the struggle as the victors. However, the damage had been great, and the immense carnage and destruction that had amassed during the course of the war changed Hawk. She became sterner and more deeply dedicated to protecting and serving the Republic, and the youthful innocence of her childhood was swept away by the horrors of that war. However, her courageous assistance in that civil war on that distant planet had earned her several great honors, two of which were the coveted Cross of Glory and her highly sought-after general's star. Though she had surpassed the rank of colonel and now had Fleet Admiral promised to her, she did not grow lax with her duty, as others would have expected. Instead, she worked even harder to do her best in everything.

She had progressed through the hierarchy of the Republic fleet incredibly quickly, earning the rank of captain at only eighteen. Her dedication astounded her superiors, and the speed with which she carried out orders given her surprised even her father. Hawk loved what she did. She loved being a part of something as grand as the Republic fleet. Allowing her eyes to come to rest on the scarred hull of a capital ship always made her heart soar, though nothing could compare to the exhilaration that surged through her whenever she was at the controls of the _Ebon Hawk_, whether she was traveling across the galaxy or just working off a little steam by cruising around Coruscant. As she often put it, that old habit died hard.

She'd been through a lot in her first ten years of service to the Republic; certainly much more than her comrades had. Unable to find her perfect niche in the fleet, she often did double duty by sometimes serving as a fighter pilot and sometimes as an infantrywoman. She mostly did what was necessary or needed at the time, though her favorite place to be was either on the bridge of a capital ship or in the strategy-planning rooms lending use of her finely-tuned military mind. By keeping herself busy and doing whatever was requested of her, she managed to garner a few dozen memories to share with her grandchildren—were she ever to have any. She had yet to marry, and there was a part of her that feared living out her life without a husband at her side. Many a suitor attempted to win her hand by trying to charm her with smooth words and handsome smiles, but every one of them left with a refused proposal. Even Travis repeatedly asked her to marry him, but she just smiled and shook her head each time. They were very close friends, for her had joined the fleet at the same time she had after being awed by her ability to keep going even after experiencing overwhelming grief. Besides, he wanted a chance to win her heart. Though Hawk reminded herself they were "just friends," she wondered if she _could_ grow to love him. Nevertheless, she gently refused to grant him her hand in marriage each time he asked, though she promised him more consideration of the matter.

Despite her busy life and the ten years that had passed since Jardin's death, she still missed him. She never forgot him, for losing him so suddenly at her young age had left a deep, painful scar on her that often left her watching the horizon in hopes he would come ambling up to her with that grin of his on his face. She often wondered if that love she'd held for him as a teenager was lingering, causing her to be unable to settle down. She was certain that Travis was wondering the same thing, yet even if he _was_ curious about it, he never seemed to come out of the shadows and interrogate her on it. Hawk was grateful that he was allowing her time to heal before overwhelming her with marriage requests, yet his persistence caused her to often spend restless nights pondering matters of the heart. Part of her, though it was an incredibly small part, actually _wanted_ to settle down with Travis. He had, after all, promised to make her happy and give her everything she'd ever dreamed of, yet another part wished to simply become an old maid and live out her days in peace reminiscing about her youth. But in Travis, there lay the promise of home and a family of her own . . . It was enough to make her head spin, especially considering the responsibilities that would come with the office of Fleet Admiral that was soon to be hers.

Even after ten years, her family was still in tact, though everyone had aged somewhat. Her beloved father was nearing seventy years of age, and although his once dark hair was almost completely silver, he still maintained a spryness that made him a capable admiral despite his years. Hawk was still proud to call him "Dad," and she felt overwhelmed to think that he would retire all too soon and she would need to try to take his place—an arduous task, to be sure!

Her mother was eight years younger than her father and had permanently hung up her lightsaber after the events on Taton Five. Revan spent her enjoyably slow days exercising her green thumb; she tended a small garden in an indoor greenhouse. Despite being a Jedi no longer—or at least a retired one—her past made her wiser than most Council members. Because of this, she occasionally offered advice to various members of the Order—but only if they asked politely.

Hawk's dear "Candy" was still going strong even at age eighty-five, and he still wove tales of the "good ol' days," as he preferred to call them, for her enjoyment. Even though she was a young woman, she loved hearing the stories, and she never complained if he inadvertently told her one she'd already heard before. There was just something about those multiple retellings that only increased the charm in them. A good comparison for it would be if one were to ask a fisherman how big his catch was. The size might increase with each time the tale was told, but it certainly wouldn't detract from the excitement. Besides, Hawk would have been ridden with guilt if she ever opened her mouth to inform Canderous of his error.

Bastila served on the Jedi Council there on Coruscant, training Padawans of her own to carry the torch of the Force into the future. Like all Jedi, she never married, but it seemed to be better that she didn't. Her life was dedicated to training young Knights in the ways of the Jedi. And under the tutelage of Jedi Master Mical, Devin had achieved the rank of Jedi Knight, much to Hawk's understandable delight and her parents' pride.

Atton and Metarie were living out their golden years in a cozy white cottage on the Telosian coastline, perfectly at home amongst the exotic flora and fauna and the soothing sound of the waves lapping against the warm sand. Shortly after a conversation with his parents, Travis informed Hawk that they had begun planting a flower garden and were installing a picket fence to encompass the backyard. The image that came to Hawk's mind was one so beautiful and so peaceful that she nearly envied the Rands for being able to have that tranquil life while she was stuck in an office building dealing with paperwork almost all day long.

Dustil, as well, had finally come to light on his homeworld, settling down a few months after Taton Five with a beautiful wife. Over those ten years, he and his wife brought four children into the galaxy—three sons, each with classic Onasi characteristics, and one daughter who was, ironically, the spitting image of Dustil's mother. The most humorous birth of all was that of Dustil's firstborn son, who was the lucky young fellow to receive his grandfather's bangs and therefore the name "Carth Onasi the Second," much to his namesake's delight. After the birth of the little girl, Dustil and Carth conspired together to set aside one weekend a year for a family reunion of sorts, during which they would enjoy large meals and cheerful conversation. With ten Onasis, Hawk included, to invite, it was the perfect excuse for Carth to fawn over his grandchildren and point out which one got whose genes. That weekend was Hawk's favorite event of the year, and she often grew excited over its arrival several weeks in advance.

But that was only the past ten years. Now Hawk had the title of "General" preceding her name, and she had troops under her command and her own office just down the hall from her father's on the top floor of the Republic Embassy. Because of their close proximity to each other, the pair often broke away from their daily duties to meet privately, share a pot of caffa, and just spend a few minutes talking and laughing. It was a tradition that Hawk treasured more than almost anything, even the family reunion, and as she stood at the window in her office one morning, she glanced over to the chrono on the wall to see how long it would be before that special caffa break. The day had been unusually slow, with no more than a few documents floating across her desk before heading to the higher-ups. It was too quite, she noticed, and she yearned to grab the _Ebon Hawk_ from its private, climate-controlled hangar in the docking bays and go for a relaxing spin around the universe. The idea was so tempting that Hawk was on her way out the door when someone suddenly rapped softly on it. She quickly returned to her seat behind her desk.

"Enter," she called.

The door opened, on hinge squeaking faintly, as Travis stepped into the room. The years had been good to him, for he had matured into a handsome young man with the same roguishly strong features as his father. Upon first glance, Hawk wasn't sure whether she was welcoming Travis or Atton into her office, but a second look assured her that her visitor was indeed Travis. After all, Travis's hair was still dark, lacking streaks of silver at his temples, and his face was clean-shaven, something which Atton had abandoned in recent years in favor of a more distinguished-looking beard. Hawk grinned jovially as Travis approached her, and she rose from her desk and met him in the middle of the room, grasping his hands warmly between hers. She was, to be honest, glad to see him, for his visit meant a pause in the tedious monotony of the day.

"Mornin', Travis," she smiled. "What brought you by?"

"You, actually," he breathed, lifting her hand to his lips in a gentlemanly fashion.

Hawk sighed, knowing that he had come to try to woo her again. Yet even with that knowledge, she couldn't help but let a tiny smile tug at the corners of her mouth as he lightly kissed the back of her hand. Though she could have pulled her hand away, she chose instead to allow him that one indulgence.

"Are you going to start _that_ again?"

"Start what?" Travis asked. "Start asking you to marry me? Why shouldn't I?"

"You know what I'll say, Travis. I always say no."

"Well, a guy has to hope that the woman he loves will change her mind. It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, right?"

Hawk laughed and shook her head, finally withdrawing her hand from his. He cracked a grin as she turned toward the window.

"You're impossible, Trav," she sighed. "You always have been. Just like your father."

"Well, you can't really blame me," he shrugged. "What with those genetics and all . . . But I know I'm working you down. One day . . ."

He trailed off, and both he and Hawk fell silent as she gazed out the window across the wide, unending expanse of Coruscant's air traffic. It went on to infinity, a never-ending sea of airspeeders and various transports. She heard Travis slid up behind her, but she didn't turn toward him. She didn't even turn when he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Marry me, Hawk," he whispered into her ear as he leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. "Please. I promise to make you happy. I'll give you anything and everything you've ever wanted."

Hawk pulled away as he tried to let his lips roam across her neck, and she stepped off toward the opposite side of the room. When she turned around, her eyes were dark.

"Travis, I just don't know," she said. "It's not about having _things_. It's about knowing if I'm gonna want to spend the rest of my life with you!"

"Do you?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I need more time to think . . ."

"Then I'll wait. I've waited ten years. I can wait a little longer."

"Oh, Trav . . . I just . . . I _can't_."

"What's wrong?" Travis asked, reaching for her arm. "It's not me, is it?"

"N—no, it's not you," Hawk replied, refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm just . . . I'm going to be too busy for a family, what with my promotion coming up and all the duties my new rank will entail . . ."

She felt Travis's hand stiffen, and he quickly removed it from her arm. Looking up at him, she found that he was fixing her with an icy glare. She gazed at him curiously, and his posture straightened.

"No, I think I know what it is, why you keep beating around the bush," he answered coldly. "It's Jardin, isn't it? You haven't let him go yet, have you? I know I can't take his place, Hawk, but you have to think about the present and let the past go!"

"No that's not―!" Hawk gasped. "It's—"

Travis lifted his hand to command her to be silent, and his dark brown eyes narrowed as his left fist clenched tightly.

"You always _did_ favor him to me. I should have _known_ that you're in love with a _dead man_!"

"Travis, no!" Hawk cried, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "I—"

"For Force's sake, Hawk!" Travis sighed, exasperated. "It's been _ten years_! It's time you moved on with your life and forgot him!"

"He was my best friend and very dear to me!" Hawk hissed. "I will _never_ forget him!"

"Oh, I think he was more than your 'friend.'"

Hawk stepped away, taken aback by Travis's statement. She shook her head, albeit slightly hesitantly, in denial, and he simply stared at her for several long moments before he pulled her into his arms.

"I know he kissed you," he continued, his voice a near purr at her ear, "but was it anything like this?"

With that, he dipped her over backward as he kissed her incredibly deeply. A muffled cry of surprise escaped Hawk as he pressed his warm, soft lips to hers, and it was a reflex action when her hands slid across his chest, across the firm muscles covered by the clingy fabric of a Republic uniform, before she wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment, she actually couldn't believe that she was returning that passionate kiss, but his arms around her jarred her to reality. Travis held her there for what seemed like a lifetime even though it was only about thirty seconds. As he released her and pulled away, Hawk's mouth dropped open and she stared at him with shock.

"Travis . . ." she whispered, rubbing her mouth lightly with the back of her hand. "I didn't know you could . . ."

". . . kiss like that?" Travis gave a scoff as he set his hands on his hips. "It's because you never let me show you. Even time I tried to tell you how I feel about you, you just wouldn't listen!"

"You've never given me a _reason_ to listen!"

"No? Well, maybe that kiss just fine-tuned your hearing." He paused and sighed. "Look, Hawk, I just want you to be happy. I think that you'll be happier with me than you ever would have been with Jardin."

He turned around and headed for the door, and Hawk raced after him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

"Please, don't go away angry!" she pleaded. "I just need a little more time to think about all this! It's so sudden how you keep asking me!"

"I'm not angry," Travis replied, squeezing her hands between his. "I'll wait as long as I have to. I'll be here when you finally make up your mind."

Gently, he kissed her on the cheek before turning and stepping out into the hallway. The door closed silently behind him, and Hawk simply stood there and stared at it. She didn't say a word, but she leaned back against it and sighed heavily. So many thoughts flooded her mind. On one hand, there was that feminine longing for a family of her own, but on the other was the knowledge that she was so close to taking her father's place. She couldn't give up her dream when she was in the homestretch to achieving it! Frustration sank in, and she ran her fingers through her hair as she sighed again and turned to glare at the door. After that spectacular kiss from Travis, she was even more confused than ever. What if his proposals were worth considering more closely? She just didn't know what to do. Under her breath, she uttered a long string of choice swear words in every language she knew from Basic to Mandalorian to Huttese and back again before she sighed a third time. Absently, she glanced to the wall chrono, realized it was her favorite hour of the day, and, grateful for the excuse to get away, headed out the door toward Carth's office.

"_I sure hope Dad has some advice about this . . ."_ she thought. _"And frack, do I need my caffa!"_


	40. Atton's Advice

**********************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Forty - Atton's Advice**

The communications console in the far corner of the Rands' kitchen had been beeping incessantly for several minutes, but only now had its rather annoying, repetitive tones reached Atton's ears. He jogged through the halls of the little house, hoping to reach that console before the caller gave up and closed the connection. That was the thing he hated most about long-distance communications. If the call didn't get answered in a record-setting number of seconds, whoever was placing it would simply grow impatient and leave.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," he mumbled as he rounded a corner and entered the kitchen. The console was still beeping frantically. "Keep your pants on!"

He soon reached the console and half-heartedly accepted the call. His face lit up, however, when he saw Travis's image on the viewscreen. Leaning back against a nearby wall, he grinned and crossed his arms.

"Talk about a pleasant surprise," he chuckled. "How's military life treating you, Trav?"

"Fair enough, I guess," Travis shrugged, looking quite depressed.

"Great Force, Trav, what's up? You look like somebody just beat you at Nar Shaddaa rules."

"Not funny, Dad." Travis rolled his eyes, sighing. "I need you to explain women to me."

Atton's expression immediately turned morose, as if he felt he had failed as a parent because he'd somehow forgotten to impart the knowledge of all those tricky feminine nuances to his son.

"Oh. Okay, well . . . Uh . . . Once a month, they—"

"Not _that_ explanation, Dad!" Travis interrupted before his father could say another word. He shook his head, embarrassment evident. "I need relationship help."

"_Oh!_ Well, in that case, you've come to the right place!" Atton pulled up a chair in front of the console and drummed his fingers on his thigh while he sat in thought for a moment. "Got troubles with Hawk, huh?"

"How'd you know?!" Surprise was clear in Travis's voice.

"She's the only girl you bother to chase," Atton replied, sounding almost ashamed that his son had not yet decided to try to win another girl. "Okay, what's the problem?"

"How do I get her to fall in love with me?"

"What have you done so far?"

Silence. Embarrassment shadowed Travis's face as he hurriedly glanced around. He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat, and Atton smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Well, uh . . ." Travis stammered. "I . . . I told her I love her and I asked her to please marry me . . . multiple times . . ."

"That's it?" Atton was still in disbelief.

"What am I supposed to do? _Beg her?!_ Besides, considering the fight we had today, I think I've done everything I possibly can to make her _hate_ me!"

"Nice one, Trav," Atton grumbled, "but you're _supposed_ to win her heart! Show her how you feel! Woo her! Have I taught you _nothing_, boy?!"

"Well, how do I do that?!" Travis cried, desperation mounting in his tone. "Don't tell me I'm supposed to sleep with her!"

"Two words: HELL NO! Her father would shoot you if you tried. _I'D_ shoot you if you tried! And if I know Hawk, _she'd_ probably shoot you if you tried!"

"Okay, okay, so that was a bad idea! What do you suggest?"

"Women like nice things that are heartfelt, all right? Anything like that usually works. Treat her like she's a goddess; they like to feel pampered and important. Compliment her hair or her clothes—or _both_, if you know what's good for you. If she asks, that dress does _not_ make her look fat. Take her to dinner at the most expensive restaurant you can find; buy her roses; find out what her favorite holovid is, rent it, and watch it with her! There are a million ways to win a woman's heart."

"Sounds like you know them all," Travis marveled.

Atton blushed faintly and ran his first two fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, well, I've been around."

"And just how many women were you around before Mom?"

"None of your business!" Atton barked. "We're talking about _you_ here, not _me_, remember? Besides, that was a long time ago, back when I was stupid."

"Fine, fine." Travis waved his hands. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't . . . I mean, if she tells you something sad, don't offer false sympathy as a cover-up while you ogle her chest."

"DAD!" Travis gasped. "You know I would never—"

"Just checking," Atton laughed. "Besides, it doesn't work. Trust me on that . . . Anyway, what's your plan of action?"

"I'll call her later and ask her to dinner, I guess," Travis mused. "Couldn't hurt, right?"

"Exactly! Go get her, Tiger!"

"Thanks, Dad. I knew I could count on you."

The console screen clicked off, and Atton's shoulders slumped forward as he exhaled heavily. He couldn't believe he'd just had to coach his son through the most basic of dating skills! Hadn't the boy been listening at all during _any_ of those father-son talks? It was more than embarrassing when he considered his pre-marriage womanizing past and his hope that Travis would have inherited at least a hint of those skills.

"The poor sod," he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

Embarrassment overtook him again as he realized the similarities between Travis and someone else he'd known in the past, and he leaped from his chair, knocking it over in the process. He raced out the back door into the garden, hardly noticing when a fresh gust of salty sea air caught him head-on. He wasn't paying attention to things like that, anyway. He was on the hunt for his wife.

He found Metarie on her hands and knees pulling weeds from the flower beds, tenderly caring for her precious plants with those gentle hands of hers, and he stormed right up beside her.

"Met, _your son_ is an idiot!" he cried.

"He's your son, too, you know," Metarie replied, not even looking up.

"Ohh, not in cases like this, he's not!" Atton replied, beginning to pace up and down the length of the garden. "Do you know what he's doing?!"

"Maybe you should enlighten me."

"He's acting like _BLONDIE_ used to, for Force's sake! He thinks that sitting quietly in the shadows for Hawk to notice him is going to win her love! It makes me _SICK_! Do you know I had to sit in there just now and coach him through asking her out to dinner?! My Force . . . I'd always thought that any boy of _mine_ would have ended up with at least _some_ of my woman-wooing genes! I tell ya, Met, if he were me when I was younger—"

Metarie sat back on her heels and looked up at him, one eyebrow arched slightly as she wiped a trickle of perspiration from her forehead with her gardening glove.

"Were he you," she said, "he would have already 'scored' with her."

Atton opened his mouth to protest, suddenly appearing unusually flabbergasted.

"Well, I didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did."

"But I—"

"Atton, honey . . ." She gave him a simple look, tilting her head only slightly to the side and lifting both eyebrows.

"Shut up?" Atton questioned, his bubble burst.

"Please. At least calm down before you give yourself a hernia."

He sighed as he shook his head. Since when had she begun treating him like a little old man? Growling under his breath with frustration with Travis, he wheeled around to reenter the house, thrusting his index finger into Metarie's direction before he left.

"All right, fine, but this time, he's _YOUR_ son!"

He stormed back to the house, and Metarie watched him go before she turned back to her task. As she tugged at a particularly stubborn weed, she thought back to Atton's comments. They made her chuckle, and she muttered to herself as she continued working.

"Even though it was _your_ hormones that got me pregnant with him in the first place and cost me sixteen hours of labor . . . Sure, he's 'my' son. Hah."


	41. Caffa Break

**Chapter Forty-One - Caffa Break**

By the time Hawk arrived at the door of Carth's office, her need for that daily jolt of caffeine had grown stronger. It was almost undeniable, and she groaned faintly with longing as the familiar, earthy scent of the caffa wafted out into the halls. For a moment, she forgot everything that had happened that day, and as the scent's intensity increased, her steps quickened accordingly. It wasn't too long before she reached the partially open door, and she knocked quietly on it before slipping inside and shutting it behind her.

Upon entering, she found her father leaning over a freshly brewed pot of caffa with his favorite cup in his right hand. Like the stickler he was for a perfect cup of caffa, he was testing the aromatic beverage for proper strength and flavor, as he always did, and Hawk grinned.

"Mornin', Dad," she said, slipping up behind him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder blade. The warm aroma of caffa, coupled with his aftershave, created such a comforting combination that she didn't really want to let go.

Carth turned around and hugged her, refusing to put down his mug in order to so do. He smiled broadly, evidently happy to have finally reached the best hour of the morning, and he returned her kiss by laying on of his own on her forehead. For a split-second, Hawk felt like a little girl again, and she sighed contentedly. After a minute, Carth pulled away and poured her a mug of their traditional beverage. She accepted it gratefully and promptly took a sip of the dark brown liquid.

"Mm, this is different today," she said, smacking her lips ever so slightly. "It's got an extra hint of . . . Hmm . . . It's got a rich chocolate undertone. You did something new, didn't you?"

"Mm-hmm," Carth replied. "I felt it needed an extra kick."

Hawk took another sip from her mug, still savoring all those muted flavors. Carth leaned back against the wall, watching her with sparkling eyes as she analyzed the drink. After a minute, she gasped as she put her finger on the special something in the caffa.

"Chocolate liqueur!" she announced proudly.

"Well done!" Carth laughed, retrieving a bottle of said liqueur from behind the caffa pot. He chuckled. "It's not enough to do damage; just enough to add something different."

"You spend so much time devising these new combinations, don't you?" Hawk asked lovingly. "You're quite the caffa connoisseur, aren't you?

"Of course I am. Caffa's my specialty; always has been. It keeps me sane when things get crazy in the office. Y'know, when _you_ get up here, you'll need a specialty to keep _your_ sanity in tact."

"Mm, I think I have one," Hawk smirked.

Setting her cup to the side, she sank into the leather chair behind the desk and reached across for the intercom. Her eyes shimmered as she flipped open the audio channel to the _Ebon Hawk_'s hangar, where she knew the ship's personal mechanics would be. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and fell absolutely still, her body barely moving. Her eyebrows furrowed with intense concentration, and a few seconds later, several surprised shouts echoed from the hangar.

"_What the—?!"_ one of the mechanics cried. _"The _Hawk_ just started its own flight preps!"_

"_Did you leave that T3 unit in there?"_ another asked. _"He could be fooling with the controls again."_

"_No, I saw him go up to maintenance this morning. I don't understand how—"_

The mechanic broke off abruptly as Hawk's eyes shot open and the _Ebon Hawk_ went silent. With a playful grin, she put her finger to her lips and pointed to the intercom, where the mechanic's voice held both anger and amusement, but more of the latter.

"_Oh, I know what's going on,"_ he muttered. _"The same thing that happened yesterday and the day before that. It's what happens when you put Force sensitives in charge . . . Okay, General, the joke's on us. You can quit messing with the ship now."_

At his words, Hawk and Carth burst out laughing until they were wiping tears from their eyes. With a good-natured chuckle, Hawk brought her caffa mug to her lips and took a slow sip from it. Carth watched her, his hands resting on his hips, and shook his head. A smile hinted at the corners of his mouth.

"Yesterday and the day before, eh?" he asked, stifling another laugh.

Hawk shot him a smug smirk, flipping her wayward bangs from her eye.

"It's my specialty. Keeps me sane when things get crazy in the office."

"You know, Hawk," Carth said thoughtfully, "even with all that Force power you've got, you still chose not to join the Jedi. Why?"

"Don't know," she shrugged. "I guess I figured that between Mom and Devin, two Force users were enough for any family. Besides, I really wanted to be around ships. And I guess, most importantly, I wanted to follow in your bootprints."

She rose and moved to an overstuffed chair on the other side of the desk, relinquishing the desk chair to her father. They sat in silence for several minutes, each taking small sips from their piping hot cups of caffa. The rich, comforting fragrance of the liquid permeated the room, filling Hawk with a sense of security and peace. Mentally, she revisited the Saturday mornings of her youth when she would awaken to the wonderful scent of caffa brewing in the kitchen. Her face must have taken on a dreamy, faraway look, for Carth quietly cleared his throat. Hawk jumped slightly and turned to him.

"Sorry," she said, a bit sheepishly. "Guess I was thinking."

"About what?"

"Various things . . . mostly about when I was younger, though. I was thinking of how you'd make a big pot of caffa every Saturday morning and spend the entire day sipping it until you were so caffeinated that you practically had a hangover the next morning . . . Then the next weekend would roll around and you'd do it all again." She chuckled reminiscently before a heavy sigh escaped her. "I guess I was thinking of how _simple_ life used to be for me. Back then, there were no wars, no trauma, no nothing . . . and especially no _men._"

"That was because you were at the age where boys were 'icky,'" Carth laughed. His demeanor quickly turned serious, though hints of amusement remained in his eyes. "I get the picture that you're having troubles with Travis again. Want to talk about it?"

"If you please," Hawk sighed. She reached over and set her mug down upon the desk top before folding her hands across her lap. "He came by today to ask me to marry him . . . again. I told him no . . . again. But this time . . . This time he kissed me. And I _liked_ it!"

"There's nothing wrong with that. You're a grown woman. You'll someday have . . . needs that a husband will fulfill for you."

"But, Dad, I don't really want to marry _him_!" she cried. "That's what makes this . . . well, _weird_. It didn't feel wrong to kiss him . . . not really. But afterwards I felt like I'd just told Jardin to get out of that special spot in my heart so Travis could move in."

"So, I take it you don't love Travis, but you might still love Jardin."

"Yeah," Hawk shrugged. "Something like that. But Jardin's dead, and Travis isn't . . . Ohh, I'm so _confused_! And sometimes it's like I don't even really believe that Jar's actually gone!"

She buried her head in her hands for a minute, and Carth just sat silently and patiently by until she gathered herself enough to speak again. After a little while, she looked up and straight into his eyes.

"Dad, what do I do? I can't help but feel like I should just go ahead and marry Travis and get it over with because I'm getting so tired of turning him down!"

"Don't you ever think like that, young lady," Carth said sternly. "Don't you marry anybody unless you're in love, and then only if you click."

"Click?"

He smiled gently and almost a bit reminiscently.

"When the right 'one' comes along—in your case, a man—and he touches your hand for the first time, you'll feel it. Trust me."

Hawk forced a grin, and she glanced out the window for a few minutes. Her eyes wandered across Coruscant's skyline, and she sighed again.

"But Travis's offer is so inviting . . ."

"What? His offer to be your husband and the father of your children? Baby Girl, _any_ man could give you that. What matters is finding the _right_ one. So tell me: do you love Travis?"

"Well . . ." she began slowly, "at the moment . . . no. But maybe I could, I guess . . . with time . . . Or I could _try_ . . . You know, that's what I've been asking him for: time. I'm not sure why I need it . . . Maybe I keep hoping I'll fall in love with him if I give myself a few more years. And today he mentioned Jardin to me . . . said he'd been more than 'just' my friend. I _did_ love him then, Dad, but Travis said it looks like I'm still in love with him. That's just not possible, is it? I mean, it can't even be . . ." She broke off and sighed. "It must look really strange for me to be obsessing like this . . . You must think I'm incredibly stupid."

"Sounds familiar," Carth murmured, though mostly to himself. "And no, Hawk, you don't sound stupid, because I know exactly how you feel. Trust me on that. I really do know."

"I do, Dad," Hawk grinned, reaching over and squeezing his hand. "I guess I'll just not rush things and wait for my knight in shining armor to ride up, right?"

"Precisely."

Hawk grabbed her mug to resume drinking from it. Just then, her comlink buzzed, and she leaned into her collar to speak into it.

"Yes?" she said.

"_Ma'am, there's a Travis Rand wanting to connect to your comm. May he speak?"_

"Yes, put him through." Hawk sighed as she waited for the call to come through, and she cast a glance at her father. "Travis is on the comm. This should be interesting."

Carth sat back in his seat, his mug clasped firmly between his hands, and the next moment, the comlink buzzed again.

"_Hawk?"_

"Right here, Trav."

"_Oh, good. I tried your office comm but couldn't get you."_

"Well, I'm having caffa with my dad right now . . ."

"_Oh! I didn't mean to interrupt. Sorry."_

"Nah, it's okay. What'd you need?"

"_I was wondering if you'd go out to dinner with me tonight."_

Hawk fell silent, and she turned to Carth. Both of her sleek, arching eyebrows shot skyward, and she pointed to the tiny speaker in her ear.

"He wants me to go to dinner!" she squeaked. "What do I do?"

"Accept it," Carth urged. "Your mother's cooking that famous meatloaf of hers tonight. If you're smart, you won't hang around to get poisoned!"

Hawk laughed before leaning back into her collar and pressing the speaker more firmly into her ear.

"_Hawk? You still there?"_

"Yep, I'm right here. Thanks for inviting me to dinner, Trav; I'd love to go."

"_Really? Oh, uh . . . great! That's wonderful. I'll pick you up tonight at your parents' house at . . . say . . . seven-ish?"_

"Works for me. I'll be waiting. Wait a sec, Trav_—_is this formal or informal?"

"_Uh . . . better make it formal."_

"Okay. See you tonight."

With that, the comlink clicked off, and Hawk turned to her father, an expression of surprise written across her face.

"What's up?" Carth asked.

"He's taking me to dinner," she said, still seeming a bit shocked. "He said it was formal."

"Wow. Kid's getting classy."

"_I_ call it sneaky," Hawk sighed. "No doubt he's gonna get me into this fancy, dimly-lit restaurant with roses and Telosian wine and ask me to marry him again."

"Are you sure he's not just being nice?"

"Dad," Hawk replied, "this is _Travis_ we're talking about. He wants me to marry him more than anything else in the galaxy. He's gonna take every opportunity he can get!"

"Okay, okay," Carth chuckled.

They sat silently for several minutes as Hawk mulled over what she could possibly wear to a fancy dinner outing. After a while, she polished off her caffa and set the cup aside with a content sigh.

"Seconds?" Carth asked.

"No thanks," she answered, shaking her head. "I'll be bouncing off the walls if I do."

He stood to refill his cup, and she slouched down in the soft overstuffed chair. She twiddled her thumbs for a few seconds until she looked up at him.

"How'd you and Mom meet?" she asked.

"I've told you that story a hundred times."

"Oh, I know. I just like hearing it. Besides, that part about how she called you a hairless Wookiee is always funny."

"Oh, _is_ it now?" Carth smirked. "You just like knowing I gave in to my passions and kissed her."

"Well, of course. What girl doesn't like a good romance tale?"

She laughed cheerfully, but she soon fell silent when she noticed a far-off, reminiscent expression creep across her father's face. She grinned, for she knew that he was mentally revisiting that moment in his past. He had done it several times before, and she knew when a smile flashed across his face that he'd just relived the kiss. After a few minutes, he seemed to snap out of his trance, and he smiled at Hawk.

"You know what?" he said. "I think I just realized that I know what was going through your head when Travis kissed you this morning."

"Really? How?"

"Well, after your mom called me a hairless Wookiee and I kissed her, I remember it feeling good and wrong all at once . . . Like I'd just shoved Dustil's mother out of the way."

Hawk nodded understandingly, for she had heard every tale of the Jedi Civil War that could possibly ever be told. A few more minutes dragged by, and she pushed herself out of the chair and walked to her father's side.

"Great caffa, as usual, Dad," she grinned, throwing her arms around her neck and hugging him. "I really wish I could stay longer, but I've got a few more things to do before closing up shop."

"I hear you," he groaned. "Just remember to pick up your uniform from the tailor's before you come home. Remember, your swearing-in is next week."

"Oh, _haar'chak_, I nearly forgot about that!" Hawk cried, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand. She headed for the door and was about to step out into the hall when she turned and flashed a smug smirk at her father, nodding to the chair in which he was seated. "Hard to believe that this time next week, I'll be sitting in that chair, isn't it? Time flies, eh?"

"Yeah, too fast," Carth sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "Just don't rush it, okay? I'd like to live to see some grandkids from _you_."

Hawk laughed and bid him farewell as she headed down the corridor toward her office. As she strode down the hall, she turned and spoke into her tiny collar comlink.

"Hey, Joe, remind me later to go pick up my admiral's uniform. And don't let me forget that I have a dinner engagement tonight. Thanks."


	42. Dinner for Two

**********************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

* * *

**

**Chapter Forty-Two - Dinner for Two**

That evening, Hawk was waiting nervously in the living room of her parents' apartment for Travis to arrive. She'd been ready for nearly two hours, and she couldn't help but twiddle her thumbs anxiously. What with it being her first date, even if it _was_ unofficial, and her unfamiliarity with wearing dresses, she had a million reasons to be nervous. She'd actually gone out that afternoon to purchase a gown, for she'd never owned one in her life. It was a dark blue sleeveless number that stopped just below her knees, and when paired with a pair of matching blue high-heeled shoes and a silk shrug, she looked perfect for any fancy occasion. Her hair, which she normally kept pinned up in a bun or tied back in a ponytail, had been allowed to fall around her shoulders in gentle, loose waves. As Carth helped Revan set the table for their dinner, he couldn't help but glance to where Hawk sat by the door. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, yet he grinned when he saw how beautiful she looked. She looked just like her mother with her crystal blue eyes and that silken black hair . . . He sighed, almost wistfully, and Revan came up behind him.

"You've got that faraway look in your eyes again," she chuckled, squeezing his shoulder.

"Do I? Well, I guess it's because I'm amazed at how quickly she grew up."

"Yeah . . ." Revan rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, studying the way the dress clung tastefully to Hawk's slender, gently curving figure that had been as straight as a board seventeen years prior. "Where did my little girl go and who's that drop-dead gorgeous woman sitting in her place?"

Carth and Revan both gave strained laughs, and Hawk turned toward them, as if she'd heard them. She smiled tightly, evidently uneasy about going out with Travis. Just then, there came a knock on the apartment door, and Hawk gave a start. Placing her hand over her chest to calm her beating heart, she threw her wrap around her shoulders and gathered her tiny handbag as she moved to open the door. As expected, Travis was standing there, grinning broadly and looking quite debonair himself, what with those Rand features and all.

"Evening, Hawk," he said as his eyes roved across her outfit. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," Hawk murmured, blushing. She turned to her parents, who were still standing by the dining room table. "Well, we're off! See you two later!"

"Should we wait up?" Carth asked, a bit playfully.

"Up to you," Hawk shrugged as she stepped out the door with Travis's arm around her.

Revan and Carth watched them go, and for several long minutes after the door clicked shut, they just stood silently there, staring at the door.

"I don't believe it," Revan whispered. "Our baby just went on her first date."

"She grew up too fast . . ." Carth sighed. "Who knows? Maybe she _will_ fall in love with Travis, get married, and have kids. It just seems like she was born only yesterday."

"I know . . . I just wish she'd walked out that door with Jardin. He was a good boy. Oh, well. No use in longing for the past, is there? C'mon, Flyboy; let's have dinner."

Carth turned to the table, and as he took his seat, he glanced up at Revan.

"You haven't called me that in ages."

She just grinned that charming, glittering smile she'd always had and served his dinner.

* * *

The restaurant Travis had chosen as the backdrop for his dinner date with Hawk was the epitome of grandeur, for it was the most expensive and most elegant place on Coruscant: the Golden Dagger. Reservations for a table were more highly sought-after by the uppercrust society than a kilo of glitterstim by the gangsters who lived by the sewers. Yet luck had been on Travis's side, for there had been a cancellation just as he tried to make a reservation. And now, as he escorted Hawk through the door into the dimly lit restaurant, he couldn't help but beam with pride at his feat. Besides, he was savoring the expression of delight on Hawk's face as her eyes roamed across the room.

"Oh, Travis," she breathed. "It's just beautiful."

The room was lit by the soft flickering of hundreds of tiny candles that perfectly accentuated the burgundy walls and flowing cream-colored tablecloths. In the far corner, surrounded by several bright green, exotic plants, a large fountain gurgled softly as streams of clear, clean water cascaded down its tiers. Gentle strains of violin music were being played over the concealed speaker system, and Hawk gave a faint cry of delight when she recognized the piece as one of her absolute favorites. When she turned to Travis, she didn't need to say a word. Her eyes and the gleeful shimmer in them said everything she'd needed to. Travis just grinned as the droid maître d' approached them.

"Do you have a reservation?" the droid asked in a rather humanlike voice.

"Yes," Travis replied, stepping around Hawk and closer to the droid. "Travis Rand and guest."

The droid uttered an acknowledgment as it turned and led Hawk and Travis to a table for two in a rather secluded corner of the restaurant. Hawk's eyebrows immediately arched when she saw how far removed from the other patrons they were, but she said nothing. She merely nodded when the droid announced a waiter would be with them shortly, and she smiled her thanks as Travis seated her at the table. As soon as they were seated, he began studying his menu, and she reached across and grabbed his arm.

"Okay, ask it," she said, her voice low.

"Ask what?" Travis appeared confused.

"You know . . . the usual."

Travis chuckled and squeezed her hand, laying the menu down for a moment.

"No, Hawk," he smiled, "this is just dinner. I'm not going to ask you to marry me tonight because this is just for the fun of it. Okay?"

Hawk breathed a faint sigh of relief and returned the gentle squeeze on her hand.

"Okay."

She took a few minutes to look around the restaurant to satisfy her curiosity. She found that there was a large balcony about twenty feet from where she and Travis were sitting and that several couples were out there dancing slowly to the quiet music. Somewhat of a dreamy expression crossed her face until Travis gently cleared his throat. She started and looked up to see a waiter standing beside the table. Travis shook his head at her, stifling a chuckle.

"He wants to know if we'd like anything to drink," he whispered. "Ladies first."

"Oh! No, you go first."

Travis nodded and looked up at the waiter.

"I'm sure the lady will like Telosian wine, and I'll have eau-de-vie."

The waiter nodded and slipped off to fetch the drinks, and Hawk stared at Travis with a combination of surprise and admiration. He grinned charmingly at her as he returned his attention to the menu.

"You just keep amazing me," Hawk marveled. "First you correctly order me Telosian wine, then you go with a slightly stronger one. What's with you?"

"Nothing," Travis replied. "Just felt like doing something special. Besides, I know how you are about your planet of origin, as it were. Hey, this sounds good."

"What sounds good?" Hawk asked, picking up her own menu.

"This fresh salmon fillet with a lemon and herb sauce. Mm . . ."

"Not me," Hawk laughed. Her eyes scanned the menu again. "I'd prefer this nerf fillet mignon. Spiced sauce, garden green salad, with house dressing on the side."

"You order from the middle of the menu," Travis sighed. "I was hoping to really get you to splurge."

"Nope, not gonna happen, Trav," she smirked as the waiter returned with their drinks. She nodded her gratitude as she took a tiny, testing sip from her glass. "I've always done two things at restaurants: order from the less expensive side and order things that have pronounceable names."

With that, she turned to the patient waiter and smiled.

"I'll have the nerf fillet," she said. "Hold the onions, and I'd like the spiced sauce on the side. Oh, and what exactly is the house dressing?"

"It's a light vinaigrette," the waiter replied. "It's quite popular; a Golden Dagger staple. I've seen customers eat it with bread, which they say is rather delicious."

Hawk nodded, indicating that this was indeed what she wanted. The waiter scribbled something out on a small notepad and turned to Travis, who quickly ordered his own meal, and the waiter soon scurried away toward the kitchen. Hawk took another tiny sip from her glass, savoring the light, fruity tones in the wine.

"This is a good one," she said, quite pleased. "Not too heavy on the sweet and fruity side, but with enough kick to leave that tongue-tingling feeling. Low alcohol content, too. I may not drink often, but when I do, I'm as responsible as I can get!"

"I'm certain you are," Travis agreed, taking a sip from his own glass. "It wouldn't do for someone of your rank in the fleet to show up loaded one morning."

"No, it wouldn't!" Hawk laughed. "Besides, Dad would kill me if I ever did!"

She and Travis shared a brief laugh before she reached across the table for his hand. He looked up, his eyes locking with hers, and he noticed that they were sparkling in the dim candlelight exactly like a pair of brilliant blue sapphires. His breath caught in his chest as her fingers slipped into his, and he grinned slightly.

"You're being awfully sweet," she said quietly, "what with bringing me to dinner and all. I've always wanted to come here . . . So, thanks."

Travis beamed as he brought her hand to his mouth, gently caressing the soft white skin of her fingertips with his lips. Hawk didn't move until he slid his touch down across her palm and wrist, and as soon as his lips touched the base of her hand, she casually pulled it from his grasp. He looked up at her, question in his eyes, and she glanced around to find an excuse. Thankfully, the waiter returned just then, leaving Hawk with a prime reason to have broken away from Travis. She smiled cordially at the waiter as he set their meals before them, and as soon as he was gone, she immediately cut her steak in half and set one of the portions on Travis's place. His eyebrows shot skyward, and she cleared a place next to her salad on her plate.

"C'mon, share," she teased. "You didn't think I was going to let you keep all that fish for yourself, did you?"

Travis laughed as he cut off an adequately sized piece of salmon for her. Then, after lightly touching their glasses together in a simple toast to the health of the Republic, they began their meal. The whole time, Travis could not take his eyes off of Hawk, relishing how simply stunning she appeared by candlelight.

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time Hawk returned home, and as she crossed to the staircase, who should be sitting in his favorite chair in the den but Carth. Smiling slightly, she walked into the den and leaned against the wall. Her father just grinned at her, crossing his legs and folding his hands behind his head.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Not too badly, actually," she admitted. "He didn't ask me to marry him once during the entire evening."

"You sure stayed out long."

"After dinner, he took me dancing." Hawk shuffled into the den and collapsed heavily onto the couch as she peeled off her shoes. "Oh, my feet are killing me!"

"He put you through your paces, I take it?"

"Oh, you're telling me!" she sighed, nodding. "The Telosian waltz wasn't so bad, what with it being slow and all . . . But, Dad, if you've never done a Corellian tango before, then I do _not_ recommend it. I'm not saying you're old or anything, it's just . . . well . . . it might wear you out!"

"Gee, thanks," Carth muttered. "Now I really do feel ancient."

"No, seriously! It wore _me_ out, and I'm not even thirty yet! Right after that tango, Travis wanted to do a Coruscanti samba, but I had to sit that one out. Whew!"

Carth chuckled as he watched her tumble back onto the couch cushions.

"Did they do a Tarisian reel?"

"A what?"

"A Tarisian reel. It's like the Telosian waltz except it's faster and more intense. But, well, I don't guess you'd know that dance. It was forgotten before you were ever born."

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Hawk massaged her feet. Carth glanced over at her, watching her for a while.

"Where'd he take you?"

"Travis? Oh, he took me to the Golden Dagger. Dad, you should have seen it! It was just _beautiful_! What with the red walls and cream tablecloths . . . and the violin music and the fountain . . . Oh, sweet Force, it was gorgeous!"

"So I take it you had fun?"

"Oh, sure did! It was even better because he wasn't asking me to marry him. It was just like we were two friends having dinner."

She glanced up at the chrono that sat on the fireplace mantle and sighed.

"Well, it's late. I should go to bed." She stood and gave Carth a quick goodnight kiss on his cheek. "G'night, Dad."

"'Night, Baby Girl. Sweet dreams."

Hawk dragged herself upstairs, stopping only to say goodnight to her mother before hauling herself into the 'fresher. She dressed for bed in a matter of moments, foregoing a shower in favor of diving into her nice, cozy bed and promising to take one in the morning. When she finally turned out the lights and jump into bed, it was less of a jumping motion and more of a slow, crawling motion coupled with a groan of exhaustion. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and that night, she dreamed of a time long past . . .

"_Hey, Travis," Jardin said, his eyes narrowed._

"_Oh, hi, Jardin. What can I do for you?"_

"_You can tell me right here and now if I've got competition."_

"_If you've got—Jardin, what are you talking about?"_

"_You know what I mean. Are you trying to swipe Hawk from me?"_

"_What? I would never—"_

"'_Cause let me tell you somethin', pal." Jardin stepped dangerously close to Travis and lifted his fist. "She's _my_ girl. I saw her first, okay?"_

"_Jardin, this is really immature of you. You don't need to be so possessive. Hawk's a great girl with good tastes." He turned away and muttered under his breath. "But you're the worst thing she's ever picked out!"_

"_Say what?!" Jardin leaped over and spun Travis around. "Say that to my face you . . . you two-faced, silver-tongued sneaky devil!"_

"_All right, I will. I said that you're not the best guy for Hawk. If anything, _I_ am."_

"You_ are? You've been getting ego-stroking lessons from your dad, haven't you?!"_

"_Don't talk about my father that way!"_

"_Yeah? Well, don't say that I'm some scummy hitchhiker that doesn't deserve to lick the dirt off Hawk's boots!"_

"_Well, you don't!"_

"_We'll see who does!"_

_With that, Jardin pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into Travis's face. Travis reeled and stumbled backwards, and from the way he held his face, it was obvious that the area around his left eye was beginning to swell. Angered, he brought his fist up under Jardin's nose, and the two of them tumbled onto the floor, clawing and scratching at each other. They pounded at each other, trading licks and exchanging knuckle hits for several long riotous minutes before Atton stormed in and dragged them apart. He sent a furious Jardin to one end of the ship, and an insulted Travis to the other. They both passed Dustil in the hall, who smothered a chortle of amusement at their beat-up appearances even though they tried to lunge at him. But the laughter finally broke free when the boys began to whimper and yelp as Metarie tended their injuries with a dousing of ice-cold kolto and a smack upside each of their heads._

When Hawk awoke in the morning, she awoke sobbing in agony. Oh, that pain; that anguish. That irrepressible longing to be back in the _Ebon Hawk_ with Jardin only a few hundred feet away on the other side of the ship. That unbearable feeling of sheer helplessness in knowing that _he_ wouldn't be coming back, no matter what she wanted. That burning pain of the deep, brutal scar of the wound . . . Had she not been of such a tender age on that tragic day, then perhaps it would not hurt so bitterly. Part of her blamed herself for it all. The other part, the optimism that was slowly being devoured by internal guilt and agony, tried in vain to convince her that it was all one huge, horrible accident. If she had only obeyed her father, only stayed put! Her hand would still be warm and safe in _his_, her heart happy and light.

"Forgive me, Jar," she whispered, looking to the ceiling as the tears kept streaming down her face. "I never meant for you to―"

She broke off abruptly, and with that, she collapsed into her pillow and began to sob harder than she had before. Her father, who had been passing her room on his way downstairs, heard her weeping, and he crept into her room. He quietly sank onto her bed beside her and gently began to massage her back as he always had when she was in pain and crying. After a moment, she pushed herself up and buried herself in his arms, her face hidden in his shoulder, and she cried for several more minutes. Carth didn't say a word; he just held Hawk until her sobs dwindled to a few sniffles. It took her an unusually long amount of time to get out of bed that morning, and needless to say, she went to her duties at the Embassy much later than usual that day.


	43. The Ceremony

**A/N:** Just so you all will know, I have never in my life witnessed a real military swearing-in, so I don't know how they go. So, I made this one up. Hope you enjoy it just the same.

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**Chapter Forty-Three - The Ceremony**

Hawk gradually recovered from her dream, and the rest of that week passed so quickly that it was as if someone had souped up the _Ebon Hawk_'s twin engines and made a fevered dash for hyperspace. The Republic Embassy was completely abuzz with activity as everyone made preparations to bid one admiral "good-bye" and another "hello." This was the first time in known history that the retiring admiral would be replaced by his daughter, and Carth had specifically requested that everything be absolutely perfect for when Hawk took command. The preparations for her swearing-in ceremony had been begun long before she had even made it past the rank of colonel, for Carth had been so confident that she _would_ make it.

And she had.

And now the day on which he would officially retire and she would officially become the fleet's next admiral had arrived. There was a large auditorium inside the Embassy where the ceremony would take place, and as aids and assistants hurried around, checking to be sure that everything was absolutely as it should be, it was obvious that excitement was thick in the air. Yet excitement wasn't the only thing noticeable in the atmosphere. A distinct feeling of utter nervousness hung over Hawk the entire day, and about an hour before the swearing-in, as her mother helped her dress for the occasion behind the closed door of her office, she simply could not stop fidgeting.

"Hold still, honey," Lire sighed, struggling to fasten the closures on the back of Hawk's uniform. She'd already missed a few because of Hawk's unstoppable twitching. "You don't need to squirm around so much."

"I can't do this, Mom," Hawk sputtered, her voice trembling. "I can't do this! I'm not cut out to be _the_ admiral! Dad's better at that!"

"It'll take practice, Hawk."

"I'm not ready! I don't think I've had enough experience!"

"You've had ten years of experience!" Lire laughed. "Even the performers at the opera house don't get that long to get ready for opening night."

"But Mom—!"

"No buts about it. You'll do just fine. Now hold still and let me do your hair."

Gently, Lire skillfully pulled Hawk's long black hair back into a simple chignon at the nape of her neck. Hawk found herself thinking that she had enough bobby pins in her hair to attract an industrial-sized electromagnet, but she quickly got used to the idea of having hair that didn't flop back and forth. When her mother tried to clip back her bangs with a glittering silver pin, however, she protested by reaching up and flipping them forward over her eye. Lire shook her head, smiling slightly.

"Just like your father," she said with a tone of love and amusement. "He never could stand to have them pulled back. He said he liked them out because pulling them back would be . . . oh, what did he say? Tampering with his genetic structure or something?"

"As I recall, it was because they add dimension to my otherwise featureless forehead."

Hawk turned to see Carth leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile on his face, having picked the lock and sneaked inside to check on her progress. She gave him a bright, though somewhat nervous, grin of her own and turned to question her mother with a simple look if she was ready to go. Lire nodded, and Hawk rose from the soft cushion in front of the mirror they had propped up against the wall. She turned, modeling her brand-new uniform. It was hunter green, consisting of a long, almost tunic-like top with a stand collar, and the tunic stretched to about six inches below her hip, dutifully covering everything that it needed to. It fit her slender figure perfectly thanks to the strategic placements of darts on the side and two princess seams down the front. Golden striping ran across her shoulders and down her arms, where two tiny golden bands of fabric encircled her wrists like attached bracelets. Beneath the tunic was a pair of matching green trousers that fit closely and tapered as they reached her ankles, and she wore a pair of shiny knee-high black boots over the trousers. They weren't bulky combat boots, but were instead elegant boots such as the ones used in horseback riding. Coupled with her neat, simple hairstyle, she was the picture of military elegance.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"You look just beautiful, sweetheart," came Carth's quiet, if not awed, response. "Just like your mother."

Hawk blushed, but then she noticed that her father's eyes had begun shining in an unusual way, and she ran to his side.

"Oh, Dad, don't cry," she said, throwing herself into his arms. "You don't have any reason to!"

"I know, I know," Carth answered, hugging her. "It's just that my baby girl's all grown up and about to take command of the entire Republic fleet . . . and I feel so _old_ now . . ."

"I'll always be your baby girl, Daddy," Hawk whispered into his ear, closing her eyes to block the flow of her own tears. "And you're not old! Maybe just a little . . . mature."

He chuckled, and they stood there in that quiet embrace for a few minutes until they heard the distinctive sound of someone sniffling into a handkerchief, and they turned to find Lire dabbing at her eyes. Hawk gave a small smile and looked across the room to the chrono.

"I guess we should get going," she said quietly. "It's almost time for that swearing-in."

Solemnly, the little trio left the office to head down to the auditorium, and Hawk couldn't help but find she was growing incredibly despaired. As they walked down the corridors to their destination, Hawk leaned over to Carth and whispered to him.

"I just wish Jardin were here."

Carth reached around and squeezed her shoulder understandingly, not saying a word. He kept his arm around her until they reached the auditorium, where he left her standing at the doorway as he headed up the main aisle to the dais at the other end. Hawk noticed nervously that the auditorium was packed to the rafters with people, most of them folks whom she had never seen. Yet she recognized a few familiar faces, for the Rands, Devin, Dustil and his family, and even Bastila was seated on the front row; everyone's faces glowed with pride. She could tell that Travis's eyes were riveted to her, and she blushed as she turned her attention back to her father. Her heart swelled as she watched him stride up that main aisle, his shoulders squared back and his head lifted high. Every member of the fleet who was there snapped to attention, and Hawk stifled a sob of both pride and grief as Carth received one unanimous salute and returned it with one of his own. He was so well-loved by the men and women under his command, and she wondered how in the Force she'd ever be able to measure up.

So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice when Carth reached the other end of the auditorium and motioned for her to join him. Taking a deep breath, Hawk squared her shoulders back as he had done and made her way to the front of the room. For a moment, she found it odd that those gathered should salute her as well, but she suddenly recalled the general's star pinned to the front of her tunic. Smiling, she returned the salute as she'd seen her father do, and noticed with delight that almost every person present met her smile as well. It seemed as if a century dragged past before she reached the opposite end of the room and mounted the few tiny steps to arrive at Carth's side. He gave her a smile that was filled with pride, and she nervously returned the gesture as they turned to face each other. Carth reached over and unpinned her general's star from the front of her uniform, setting it off to the side. Then he raised his right hand, and Hawk followed as her swearing-in commenced. A hush swept over the crowd as Carth spoke.

"Hawk Onasi," he said somberly and with a tone of utmost pride that he was swearing in his own daughter to take his place, "do you solemnly swear to uphold the office of Fleet Admiral of the Republic to the best of your ability?"

"I swear it."

"Do you swear to protect the Republic at any cost, even at the expense of yourself if necessary?"

"I swear it."

"Do you swear to honor the Republic, to serve her with the whole of your being, and to remain loyal to her even if it means your end?"

"I swear it."

"And do you swear to conduct yourself in a manner that brings the Republic and your office respect, and do you swear to refuse anything to the contrary?"

"I swear it."

Carth gave a smile as he reached up and unpinned a gleaming golden bar from the front of his own uniform and slowly pinned it to the front of hers. Hawk's eyes began to fill with tears as she gazed into his, and she noticed that he seemed to be tearing up as well and that his voice seemed to be choking when he spoke again.

"Then it is my greatest honor to promote you to the rank of Fleet Admiral, and to place you in highest command of all the Republic forces. And I know it might not be regulation, but I have to tell you that I'm incredibly proud of you, _Admiral_."

Hawk couldn't stand it any longer, and tears began to stream down her face as she made a near-lunge across the platform and threw her arms around Carth's neck in a warm embrace. She wasn't sure if hugging the former admiral was against regulation or not, but she did it anyway simply because she could. She sighed with contentment as he returned her embrace, hugging her tightly and lightly kissing her on the cheek.

"I am so proud of you, Baby Girl," he whispered. "You made it."

Hawk pulled back, her face streaked with the salt of her tears, and she forced a broad, sparkling smile.

"It's all thanks to you, Dad," she answered before giving him another hug. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie."

Needless to say, there was not a dry eye in the auditorium that afternoon, but when Carth introduced the gathered military men and women to their new commanding officer, a cheer went up so loudly that Hawk couldn't help but blush in humble gratitude.


	44. The First Two Years

**************************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Forty-Four - The First Two Years**

_Twelve years after Taton Five._

Hawk's first two years of command flew by like a peregrine falcon making a three hundred kilometers-an-hour dive from the top of a steep canyon wall. Under her command, the Republic fleet flourished, for she made it a priority to bolster their available resources as much as possible. Having spent her entire life around the military and its history had taught her many a thing about being properly prepared in case of an attack. During her first two years, more than a dozen brand-new capital ships joined the fleet from Taton Five's shipyards, and one of them was Hawk's personal flagship, the _Talon_. Because of her immense personal and family pride, she made it a point to have her namesake bird of prey painted across the vessel as a large mural, and she specifically insisted that the Onasi crest be emblazoned on both sides of it. It took six months for her custom paint job to be completed, and when it finally was and she took the _Talon_ on its maiden journey, its beauty and elegance left many an observer breathless as it glided through the blackness of space. But what was even more awe-inspiring was seeing it docked in its hangar and being able to inspect the highly detailed design on its hull, for Hawk requested that the _Talon_'s docking bay remain open to the public for tours.

As proud as Hawk was of her ship and her family, the Republic was twice as proud as her. She proved to be a worthy successor to her father, for she served her post quite well. Though she had sworn to serve with her utmost ability, she often found herself uncomfortable with the honors the Republic insisted on bestowing upon her. She strove to maintain humility despite her fiery nature, and she directed glory away from herself on more than one occasion by rewarding average soldiers for acts of heroism. Often unnerved by the pomp and circumstance that came with her office, she was known to excuse herself and head down to the hangar bays to sit in her favorite place—the _Ebon Hawk_'s cockpit.

She still chose to remain unmarried, and Travis's proposals gradually dwindled to a near nothing, for he knew that if she would choose him, it would be on her own time table. They remained close friends, and on several occasions, she wondered if she was indeed falling in love with him. Her heart never allowed her to completely forget Jardin, however, keeping his mischievous grin burned into her memory. Whenever she thought back to the year she turned fifteen, she laughed over the jokes he cracked and the way he had been jealous of Travis. To put it simply, she still missed him, but the pain had long since faded into an occasional stab of grief whenever she thought of his last attempt at heroism.

One afternoon, during her lunch break, after a bout of unusually mournful reminiscing and a rather hectic morning of meetings and paperwork, she sneaked to the _Ebon Hawk_'s hanger and secretly left the Embassy. She kept a change of clothes in the ship, so she changed into that favorite jacket of hers while she cruised around Coruscant for several hours. For that short amount of time, she was fifteen again, out on her own for the first time and on her greatest adventure. As she wove her way between the skyscrapers, she thought back to those few weeks of traveling. She laughed at the happy memories and cried at the sad ones, walking down a rather long memory lane. Then she relived the last twelve years, mentally watching herself mature from a wide-eyed teenager with enough energy to tire a gizka to a twenty-seven-year-old woman with a large, unnecessarily lavish office and the bad habit of telepathically operating the _Hawk_ if only to play a rather mean joke on a few understandably disgruntled mechanics. She chuckled as she thought back across her past, but she was yanked from her thoughts by the sudden buzzing of her collar comlink. Swearing lightly at the way she jumped, startled, she reached up and answered.

"Yes?"

"_Admiral, where are you? We've been waiting for you for twenty minutes."_

Suddenly, she remembered her bimonthly meeting with her generals was supposed to be that afternoon, and she covered the comm's microphone while she uttered a rather un-admiral-like curse word and smacked her forehead with her palm.

"_Admiral?"_

"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I was under the impression my calendar was clear . . . I'll be there in a few minutes."

She wheeled the _Ebon Hawk_ around and full-throttled back to the Embassy, switching it to autopilot as she hurried to slip back into her uniform. She stepped out of the 'fresher, straightening the five stripes on her shoulder that indicated her rank, just as the _Hawk_ set down in its hangar. She had a sudden feeling of discomfort, as if she didn't feel quite right going to this meeting and doing all the things required of admirals. She couldn't help but think, as she neatened her uniform, that she was only a half-person of sorts. She knew who she was in terms of her vocation, her duties, but she knew the other part of her was still out there hiding in the dark and awaiting discovery. Somehow, she felt it was the same part of her soul that had died after Taton Five. Nevertheless, she pushed all that aside and hurried from her ship.

Quickly, she rushed down the loading ramp and took the shortest shortcut she knew to her office. When she arrived, she was out of breath and red-faced, so she took a moment to inhale deeply several times before stepping into her office. There, seated around her desk, were the seven or eight men and women known as the Admiral's Generals. They commanded various divisions in the fleet, and once every two months, they met with Hawk to discuss various business matters. They all snapped to attention when Hawk walked in, and she waved her hand.

"At ease," she said, crossing to her desk.

As she took a seat behind her desk, she noticed a large stack of papers waiting there for her signature. She sighed, forced a smile and a weak chuckle, and looked to her generals.

"Well, where do we start?"


	45. Paperwork and Caffa

**************************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._****************

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**Chapter Forty-Five - Paperwork and Caffa**

An hour later, the meeting dismissed, and Hawk was left swamped with paperwork. She was certain that she was up to her ears with it, at least, and she had all too quickly drained the ink from her writing utensil. By the time her two-thirty caffa break rolled around, she'd gotten through approximately a third of the stack of documents, and the muscles in her right hand were cramped from overuse. She thought that break would never come, but she knew it had when a knock came at her door. Shortly afterward, her aid, Joe, walked in, bearing a small tray with a mug of freshly-brewed caffa sitting neatly in the center of it. Hawk lifted her head as that familiar scent wafted across the room to her, and she grinned as Joe handed the mug to her. Sighing contentedly, she gratefully took a long, slow sip from it.

"Thanks, Joe," she said, inhaling deeply of the warm beverage. "I was about to get some myself, but I guess you saved me the trouble."

"Well, I know your daily schedule by now, ma'am," Joe admitted with a chuckle. "How's the paperwork coming?"

"It's insane!" Hawk replied, staring at the wobbling stack of remaining documents. "How do we _ever_ generate this much paperwork?!"

"I don't know, but I'm glad it's not my job to sign it all."

"Gee, thanks," Hawk scoffed. "I don't think I'll be able to last, Joe . . ."

She sighed dramatically, and Joe laughed with genuine amusement. He was a young fellow, perhaps only twenty-two, with dark brown hair and even darker eyes. His skin was an olive tone, and he had a distinct Coruscanti accent that clearly revealed his home planet. In short, he was a handsome young man with a pleasant manner, and rumors ran rampant throughout the fleet that he had his eyes on Hawk. Yet he and Hawk both knew the rumors were false, for Travis had thoroughly threatened to leave bodily harm on Joe if he ever had his hands on Hawk. Hawk, of course, felt that Travis had overreacted, but after that event, she didn't want to mention it to him. Travis's temper when it came to other men looking at her was like highly volatile spaceship fuel—capable of exploding at any minute.

After a moment, Joe shifted his weight slightly, moving from one foot to the other as Hawk set her cup of caffa aside and dove back into the mound of paperwork that seemed to grow of its own accord.

"Ma'am," he said, "there's a visitor downstairs in the lobby to see you. Should I send him up?"

"Oh, you might as well," Hawk replied, signing another document and setting it aside.

"Oh, and . . . your droid has demanded to stand guard outside your door. I let him, if that's all right . . . ?"

Hawk glanced up, her left eyebrow twitching somewhat.

"My droid? Which one?"

"The HK unit, ma'am."

"Oh." Hawk laughed for a moment. "Yes, it's certainly fine if he stays out there."

Joe nodded once and left the office, closing the door quietly behind himself. Hawk heard HK-47 greeting him as Joe headed down the hall, and she smiled to herself at his familiar words of "Salutation: Good afternoon, meatbag." That droid was so intent upon keeping her safe that he was actually walking a sentry post in the middle of perhaps the safest place on Coruscant. Though it was really unnecessary that he do sentry duty, she allowed him to pace up and down the hallway in front of her door because she liked the sound of grinding metal and whirring gears. HK kept a rhythm of sorts out there in the hall, and Hawk found it somewhat comforting as she hurriedly signed off a few more documents.

A few minutes later, the door opened slowly, that one hinge still squeaking, as HK poked his head into the room. His reddish photoreceptors focused on Hawk, and he made a sound comparable to someone clearing his throat.

"Statement: Mistress, your meatbag visitor has arrived."

"Thanks, HK," Hawk answered, failing to look up from her work. "That'll be all."

The assassin droid turned to leave, but as he did, he got right up in the visitor's face, startling the stranger a good deal.

"Statement: I will be at the door at all times, _meatbag_. Threat: If you so much as threaten to harm a hair on her quite valuable head, I will personally reduce you to a pile of ash before you can lift a finger!"

Hawk chuckled to herself, shaking her head with amusement, as HK ambled from the office, but she didn't look up until her visitor spoke five very familiar words.

"Is he _always_ like that?"


	46. The Visitor

**************************Disclaimer: _Hawk and all non-game characters are mine_. _Game characters belong to LucasArts, BioWare, and Obsidian Entertainment. Yes, I put them back on their respective shelves when I was finished._**************

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this humble tale of mine. I hope you all enjoyed it since it was my first story that topped 70k words. Now it seems as if 70k is no problem. But thanks for reading and reviewing, and I hope you do the same with the rest of my stories. Thanks so much! -T92.

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**Chapter Forty-Six - The Visitor**

Hawk's back straightened, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath froze in her lungs, for she recognized that voice. It was older, perhaps a faint bit huskier, but she still recognized it. Her heart began to pound as she slowly looked up, struggling to inhale. She nearly stopped breathing altogether when she looked up completely and found herself locking gazes with a pair of brilliantly sparkling emerald green eyes. Directly above the right one was a mass of golden hair, and around her visitor's shoulders was a well-known jacket that had been patched and repatched a hundred times over. Instinctively, Hawk's hands flew up to cover her mouth, which had fallen open with surprise at seeing a familiar grin flash across the stranger's face. Tears welled in her eyes as she heaved a shuddering breath and rose shakily from her desk.

"Oh, my Force," she whispered, her legs trembling visibly as she stepped out from around her desk. "No . . . It . . . It just _can't_ be . . . ! But it is . . . Oh, my _Force_! _JAR!!_"

With a sob of joy and relief, she raced into Jardin's arms, throwing her own around his neck and hugging him tightly. She began to weep almost hysterically as he cloaked her in a warm embrace, holding her close to himself. Clinging to his neck, she breathed a heavy sigh and dared not to let go. After a moment, however, they pulled apart, and Hawk reached up to run her fingers through his hair. Her eyes searched his, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I don't believe it!" she sputtered. "I—I thought you were dead!"

"I know . . ." Jardin replied with an apologetic sigh. "I should have come sooner."

"Where've you been all this time?!" she cried. "You could have at least _called_ me to let me know you were all right! I've been thinking you were dead for _twelve years_! Do you know what that was like?!"

She began to cry again, and he reached over to gently wipe away her tears with his thumb.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here now."

Hawk gazed up into his eyes and realized that he'd changed somewhat from the spunky sixteen-year-old he'd been. His eyes were the same bright green color they'd always been, and his hair was still combed the same way, but there was certainly something different about him. He was an inch or two taller, his voice was a little deeper, and he'd grown a small, neatly-kept beard that Hawk discovered to be quite attractive. Yet she could still see the Jardin she'd always known in him, and she gave a tiny smile as she reached up to cup his strong jaw in her slender hand.

"I've missed you," she whispered. "All this time . . . All this time I thought you were dead, but you really weren't. Why didn't you come to me?"

"First off, I couldn't," Jardin shrugged. He nodded toward his right leg, which he flexed somewhat, and Hawk noticed the whirring of electronics as he did. Her eyes went wide, but he continued. "My leg got blown off in that explosion, and I was half dead as it was when they finally dragged me out of the rubble. I was in a coma for about three months and went through another six of rehabilitation to get used to the new leg. By the time I was out of the hospital, they told me that you thought I was . . . well, you know."

He paused and sighed, looking away for a moment. His eyes darted around the room, and Hawk touched his jaw. He looked back down at her after a moment and forced a rather tight smile before continuing.

"I wanted to start looking for you right away, and I did. Oh, sure, I crossed your path a few times, but I—"

"You what?!" Hawk's voice was little more than a high-pitched squeak. "You could have come to me then! Why didn't you?!"

"Well, it's a bit embarrassing . . ."

"I still want to know why you didn't even contact me!"

He turned and gazed deeply into her eyes, pressing her hand to his heart.

"I heard you'd started up with Travis," he confessed in a whisper. "I didn't know if you and he were . . . y'know . . . married and all, so I didn't want to risk it. Quite frankly, I was scared. I was scared you'd forgotten me, so I just decided to play dead, as it were. But then I heard you'd made Fleet Admiral, so I figured I'd give it a shot, if only to see you again."

"Oh, Jar, if I had known—"

He pressed his first two fingers to her lips, commanding her to be silent. Hawk complied instantly as he leaned in and tenderly pressed his lips against hers. He gently held her chin in his hand, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. They leaned in to each other, deepening the kiss. Hawk backed up, dragging him with her, until she was practically sitting on her desk and he was leaning over her, his palms pressed into the desk top. After a minute, he pulled away, and Hawk held his face in her hands as she smiled. Tears glistened in her eyes again as she tenderly stroked his hair.

"I've missed you so much," she sighed. "And Travis kept asking me to marry him, but I just couldn't. I couldn't ever get over losing you . . . or thinking I had."

"Even after twelve years?" Jardin lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes," Hawk nodded. "At first . . . at first I thought it was weird for me to be like that. I thought I was being . . . well, obsessed. But thinking you were dead left a scar on me, Jardin. It didn't heal. It _wouldn't_ heal. I―I thought I could make it stop hurting, but it wouldn't."

With a heavy sigh, she slid off her desk and nestled herself into his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and they both closed their eyes. After a moment, he took a breath as if to say something, and Hawk looked up at him. He smiled down at her, brushing his fingers through her bangs.

"Yeah, I missed you, too," he said softly. "I've been thinking about you every day. Not a day went by that I didn't think about those few days we spent on the _Ebon Hawk_. And y'know somethin'? I told you something on Telos all those years ago, while you were unconscious after getting shot."

"That would explain why I don't remember hearing anything," Hawk replied, deadpan. She tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. "What'd you say?"

Jardin gently grabbed her hand in his and pressed it to his heart, gazing deeply into her eyes.

"I said I loved you."

Hawk gasped, and her one free hand flew to cover her mouth, which had fallen open. Jardin's eyes sparkled, and tears began to flow from hers. She smiled at him through her tears, and he wiped the salty droplets away with his thumb. With a sigh, she reached up and fingered his beard.

"Do you still?"

"Do I still love you?" Jardin asked, and Hawk nodded. He fell silent for a minute, as if deep in thought, before smiling gently at her. "Of course I do."

Hawk gave a cry of joy and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his neck. Jardin wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes as he nestled his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply of the soft, feminine fragrance of the soap she used. She turned her head slightly and lightly kissed his jaw, hugging him so tightly that it was if she released him, he'd vanish for another dozen years. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears seeped through them, and though she never spoke aloud, she whispered the truth of her mutual love to his ear, her voice just barely audible. The way his embrace tightened around her indicated he had heard her, and though he had another question on his mind, he didn't ask immediately. He waited a moment before pulling back and clasping Hawk's hand between both of his. As her bright blue eyes locked onto his, shimmering with joy, he gently asked for her hand in marriage. Hawk could barely contain her excitement as she threw herself into his arms again—an evident acceptance. He laughed as he patted her back, and she laughed, too. Second only to her inauguration, this was the best day of her life. After a moment, she looked up into his eyes, and a smile crossed his face as he tilted her chin toward him and gently kissed her.

As she returned the kiss, Hawk suddenly realized that the bruised scar on her heart was healing. She didn't feel that miserable, unbearable pain anymore now that Jardin was hers again. She felt a bit sorry for Travis; however he'd deal with her decision, she didn't know. She wondered if it was wrong that she didn't really care at that moment, but then she decided she could care later, after the fact that she was getting married had fully sunk in. By then, maybe she'd even be able to help him find a woman he could truly love and who would love him back. Yet at that moment, her mind was preoccupied with the wedding she would soon have to begin planning, and also with the knowledge that what her father had told her was right. As soon as her hand slid into Jardin's, she knew. It manifested itself as a shiver that rolled down her spine and lit a fire in her heart. It came in the form of a grin spreading across her face as she laced her fingers into his. For the first time in her life since she was a teenage girl, that part of herself for which she had been searching was finally uncovered. Her life had been something of a search for herself; she'd known that for years. Finding her place in the fleet was just the start; she'd only needed her emotional wounds to heal for the rest to click into place.

As Jardin held her and she held him, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. A vision danced across the back of her eyelids, and though it was only fleeting, it was enough to make her heart skip a beat. She saw herself, leaning on Jardin's arm and wearing a smile as she watched a young child play. Then she saw the child: a son with flashing green eyes and shimmering cropped black hair, smirking roguishly and pridefully tossing his head so that the wind caught each strand of hair and tossed it like a wave of short, ebony locks. Hawk got another look at herself and noticed with a gasp a gentle roundness in her abdomen, barely visible under the hunter green cloth of her Republic uniform. Then, as quickly as it had come, the vision faded, and she knew she'd just seen her future as a wife, mother, and continued leader of the Republic fleet. A content smile crossed her face as she sighed happily, ready for whatever would come. And she knew she was who she was meant to be. All those longings for a home and family of her own would finally be realized, and she would still be living her dream of serving the Republic.

It had begun as a journey of self-discovery, and despite the pain and agony involved throughout the course of it, she felt she had succeeded. Everything she was and ever hoped to be was spread out before her, and she felt a renewed sense of vigor as she pondered the future of both herself and her family name. But all that didn't even matter. What mattered was that she'd finally found her true self though it was hidden amongst the brutal pain of loving and losing then getting him back. All that mattered was that she knew who she was now.

Hawk was found.

_Fin._


End file.
